


I Faced Oblivion With the Taste of You On My Lips

by Charming Facade (CrystalSilhouette)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Probing, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Non-Consensual Bondage, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Voyeurism, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalSilhouette/pseuds/Charming%20Facade
Summary: The Castle of Lions is in need of repair. Lance is on a solo mission to prove his worth to the team. He's determined to pull through and, unfortunately, has to do much of the leg work on his own. Luckily, his best tool is his winning personality. The pressure is on for him to pull it off without a hitch... Until there is one.Keith is... somewhere. Certainly not anywhere good. He's broken, disoriented, and disconnected. A Blade mission gone wrong has left him without a team and without control. Left on his own, he has nothing but time to figure out how to get out of this predicament. Except, his mind is forced to deal with other matters.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 82





	1. Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Well...  
> This ran away with me a little. 
> 
> Pardon the bullshit dramatic title.  
> I know I'm supposed to be working on [S.A.W.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790089/chapters/36742989) This was supposed to be just a little blurb. Just a dirty little 'quickie'. Just utter self-serving garbage. But it just. never. stopped. T_T Eventually, I had to make the call and break it up - otherwise it would just be this immense read. I'm hoping to get the next part done in relative haste since I would like to have this removed from my brain and return to my main fic. 
> 
> It's within canon universe. Stick it somewhere after Keith leaves for the Blade of Marmora.  
> Clearly, I'm a sick person.  
> Keith, I love you.  
> I'm sorry.
> 
> Someone help me with tags. I'm the worst.

_Drip._

"The stabilizer is completely compromised." Hunk sighed from the belly of the castleship. "The whole thing is smoking like a whole pig on a spit at my uncle's last hokey luau… doesn't smell as good though."

"Is it fixable?" Shiros' voice echoed from the speakers.

"Naturally." Coran answered confidently with a proud curl of his fiery 'stache. "Unfortunately, the parts we need may be a bit difficult to locate considering after how much time has passed; these engines are somewhat outmoded."

"I… I think if we can find a decent supplier of a good amount of generic parts, I might be able to jerry-rig a decent band-aid."

The ship had taken quite the beating after exiting a portal right into a surprise star collision. The unfortunate part was the victim of the collision was already a white dwarf and on the brink of it's supernova. The violence of the explosion caused a kickback against the castleship and forced Allura to push hard and fast to maneuver the massive vessel. Dodging around the spitting debris against the shockwave, the system had overloaded completely to compensate. Once the space dust settled, they were able to assess the damages. The news was less than desirable.

.

.

.

_Drip._

“From the list we’ve compiled, it looks like we can make this work.” Pidge mumbled, keying through the specifications and blueprints projected. “With some of the components here, they may even end up being better than the original fixtures.”

“Great! I’m glad I could help out.” Matt’s warm smile was always enough to secretly make the young pilot’s heart melt. She relished every reminder that her brother was alive and well. “I’ll let you know when the parts ship out the minute they do.”

“Thanks, Matt. There’s just one hiccup.” 

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Well, looking through the coding,” Pidge mumbled slightly as she scrolled through walls of text and numbers, symbols that were far beyond human condition’s ability to comprehend. Well, in a broad generality, that is. “I can get the components you gathered to talk to each other fairly easily. What I _can’t_ seem to do is get them to communicate with the main processors of the castleship - even on a rudimentary level. I can’t quite figure out the right synthesis equation.”

Matt poured over the mess of command lines and syntax and saw where the issue presented a complete language barrier. Even though everything he had cobbled together for them were essentially a melting pot of alien pick-a-parts, their developmental ages were aligned. But, with ten thousand years on the shelf, the castleship was not as capable adapting to the newer code.

“I see…” 

Matt considered for a long moment, his eyes still poring over the screens. This was also quite beyond his capabilities. He sighed deeply and leaned back just as far in his chair. His hand slipped over his face and his fingers stopped to brush over his lips as he considered.

“What’s wrong, Matt?” Shiro asked.

“I’m-” he paused, “Reticent to bring it up, but… There _might_ be someone who may have what you need.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to tell us...?” Hunk inquired, “If they can help, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Oh, sure! Getting you guys what you would need is totally a plus!” Matt sat up straight again, “He’s a _collector,_ of sorts. The Resistance has done business with him from time to time because he seems to have a decent horde of old technology, illegal programs, and a lot of desirable information. I’m pretty sure he’s had his fingers on several kinds of Altean technology and has the resources to develop a way to get it to cross-talk with others. That is, if he hasn’t already done so.”

“Sounds like the perfect Space ‘Triple A’ to me!” Lance clapped his hands together and rubbed. He was ready to jump into his lion and strike up a chat with the man.

“Sounds like it.” Matt’s expression darkened once again, “The issue is how he comes about it all.”

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s a - uh - business owner. On Sagev 547…” He answered Shiro’s question in a tone that sent a shiver down Pidge’s spine. 

“What?!” Clearly, the Alteans understood the gravitas.

“I… I don’t get it.” Lance mumbled.

“Sagev 547 could essentially be considered the _underbelly_ of the universe, Number Three.” Coran offered with the somber tone of crossed arms and a bowed head, “It’s a hot-bed of seedy activities, no matter what powers be in place to push out the perpetual pestilence that place propagates.” 

“Precisely!” Matt chimed, rather enthusiastically.

Allura stepped up and cleared her throat.

“Sagev 547 is known for being a planet that holds very lax adherence to any laws of decency. It’s because of this, many people there are constantly treading the line of unlawful activities but also aggrandize themselves in the eyes of the universe by establishing itself as a sort of… getaway.” Allura shook her head disapprovingly. "On the surface, it’s slightly reputable…”

“But the more you scratch, the darker it gets.” Coran punctuated. 

“The guy you’re looking for is definitely not running anything you’d find on the surface.” Matt explained. “He’s in the meat market.”

“W-what does that mean?” Pidge stammered hesitantly.

“Every bit of what you’re thinking and all that’s in between.”

She liked the last half of her brother’s answer less than what she was thinking.

“Well, whatever it means, it sounds like we should probably limit our time there…” Shiro glanced over at Pidge, “And probably our numbers.”

“It’s probably best to keep the visit as minimal as possible - in both avenues.” Matt warned, “And - no offense, Shiro - but they can smell a Narc lightyears away.”

“I can _blend_.”

“Sorry, Paladin…” Coran corrected, “But I’m afraid you would stick like a Yalmor grazing in the middle of a grassy plain. Unfortunately, a lot of what they pickup on is demeanor and attitude. I’m sorry to say, Shiro, but you exude the aura of lawful authority. ”

While Shiro sulked just a bit, Matt offered a suggestion. “Not to just volunteer for you, but.. Honestly, I think Lance would be your best bet.”

“What? Seriously? You want to send Lance _there?_ I mean, I’m pretty sure that we could probably find someone else that might have what we’re looking for, right? It’s a big universe! Other folks do - like - math and stuff! What about the Olkari? They’re super technologically advanced! _Wicked_ smart and stuff!” 

Lance rubbed the back of his neck as Hunk stammered.

“While they could probably help us to figure it out,” Pidge pondered aloud, “The castle’s tech is ten _thousand_ years old. And seeing as how it’s not exactly a mainstream commodity, I doubt they’ve had the chance to break it down and study it. Which means that, in order for the code cracking to happen, they would need the castle - since I’m pretty certain it’s the only Altean vessel that’s even functional at the level it is.” 

“Not to mention after that jump we did, we’re several quadrants away from the planet now.” Coran twirled his mustache, “Seems we have a choice to make, Team.” 

“Sagev now, or Olkari later.” Allura sighed. “Quite possibly _much_ later.”

Sitting dead in the water, as it were, was not what Allura had hoped. There were pressing matters to attend to; people to meet, refugees to save, diplomacy to… deploy! The sooner they could move their repairs along, the better. This entire hiccup just kabashed a lot of things she already had set in motion.

“Let me do it.” 

Every set of eyes in the control room fell on Lance.

“... Let me do it.” he repeated. 

After everything that was put forth about Sagev 547, after all the alluding and insinuations about how bad the place was, no one seemed to believe the fact that Lance was seriously considering the mission. He waited patiently for someone to say something, one way or another. Instead, he simply got awkward stares and silence that was begging for someone to offer an excuse to shut him down.

“Come on, I’m serious. I’ll go.” Lance took a step forward, placing a hand on his chest as the other motioned his sincerity, “I can do this. Let me prove I can do this. Matt already said that I’m totally the right guy.”

“Er- I mean…” Matt chattered. When he saw the look Lance gave him over his shoulder he sobered, “I said you are their best bet, Lance. But it’s still a really bad place. If you go down there, you won’t have much help.”

“I. Can. Do this.” 

“We don’t really have all that much choice.” Pidge piped up, “Even if we decided to wait it out for anyone else to give us a hand… We’re a giant target for any Galra ship that happens to pass by. We were on course for a colony that’s under seige… We can’t be sure that they won’t see us at some point soon.”

“If they do… we’re toast.” Hunk bemoaned.

.

.

_Drip-drip._

.

_Drip._

Opulent.

He remembered the word because it was one he came across when he was much younger. He practically used the word to utter death any time he could when he wanted to describe his life goals. Yes, he wanted to be a pilot. Yes, he wanted to be the best. But his end game - his endgame was the fame, the glory, the _opulence_ that would reverberate around his legacy. Lance would be draped in a mantle of gold and valor and crowned with the humility of his humanity, his philanthropic heart.

This place was _opulent_.

He imagined this is what worlds would look like if everything bled money. Lights for miles. Glitz and glam at every corner. Fabulous people dressed in gaudy outfits with smiles just as bright as the cash flow that seemed to fall into every building. He was really sort of sad that this wasn’t where he was going to be spending his time. Such a shame. He could be having the time of his life along with securing what the team needed for future world saving. _Maybe once the world was saved they could have a wild party night here._

He found the building called “The Teal Rings” and stepped into the lobby. Lance was immediately blown away by the grandeur of it all. The lobby ceilings were towering overhead and held up by daunting pillars gilded in nearly every manner of precious mineral. This was no hotel, this was a fucking _palace!_

“Welcome, welcome!”

Lance’s eyes finally fell on a figure approaching him from across the way. 

“Aah, pleasure to meet you in person Mr. Tahl-Or.”

The deep, fluid voice came from a - supposed - gentleman that seemed a familiar form. Bipedal. Two arms, wait, four. Ok. Not all that odd. As he stepped closer, Lance could tell his skin was smooth and, well, seemed to glisten a bit. Otherwise he seemed well kept, sharply dressed in a suit that was just as extravagant as anything he saw on the street. As he stepped before him, all for appendages linked across his chest, forming an ‘x’ shape, and he bowed. They weren’t arms.. Or were they? He saw what looked like hands, but also tendrils of some sort?

“It’s - uh - Tailor, actually.” Lance nodded his head with a glance down his nose. Something unavoidable seeing as how up close the host was barely up to his shoulder in height.

“Graces, forgive me.” he bowed again. “How was your entry on the flight into Sagev 547? No trouble with the _local authorities_ , I hope.”

There was a certain snide inflection to the words and Lance was sharp enough to pick up on his ‘joke’. 

“Just the kind I had to constantly check my wallet for.” he answered with a pique of a brow.

“Ah, too true. Too true.” the man… thing.. Chortled. “Do forgive my not shaking your hand, Mr. Tailor. I understand the common practice of greeting through much of the galaxy, however, Malexa - such as myself - are rather… sensitive creatures to many foreign substances. Our personal ecosystems are a rather delicate balance and most alien bacteria are rather toxic.”

“Seems like quite a bummer.” 

“It can be to a certain extent, certainly with the sort of business I find myself the proprietor to.” he turned and motioned Lance to follow behind. “Now, it is my understanding that you are here for a _particular_ business transaction.”

Lance flipped back his sun ray locks with panache, “Indeed, I am.”

Luscious blonde strands that draped around his shoulders in a golden curtain, accented by the pencil thin hair above his lip. Simple and tastefully _Latin._ His suit was the closest thing that he could find to class up the loosest sense of _Scarface_ he could find in Space Mall - gold chain included. All of this laid on top of a backdrop of blue-painted skin. The silk gloves were a stylish bonus. They also helped to save a bit on the makeup. If he learned nothing else from his elder sisters growing up, it was certainly how to make a look work, and this look _worked._ ‘The Devil’s in the details’, they say. Even Pidge was a bit blown away by how much Lance actually disappeared in that particular getup. 

But, the whole thing would be pointless if she and Matt hadn’t managed to fix him up with a bogus card of GAC credits. He wouldn’t be able to pull off the rich boy persona without being able to actually ‘spend some _do re mi_ ’. As it was, the exchange would seem legitimate. The transfers into the bank would be valid and Lance would be able to procure the information they needed in order to fix up the castle. There were mixed emotions about the whole concept, but they settled on “stealing from the blackmarket” as a moral gray area. The credits would be in the seller’s account for several weeks before the numbers would become invalid. By then, the castle and “Mr. Tailor” would be long gone.

“So tell me, Mr-”  
  
  


“Please, just call me Gor-yex.” 

“Alright…” Lance pulled the edge of a glove on further and adjusted his cuff as he fell in line behind Gor-yex, “I’m curious how you managed to come across what I need. You seem to be the only one who has it.”

“Aah, well.” Gor-yex tapped a button to an elevator door and motioned for Lan- Mr. Tailor to step in. “This Sagev tends to be a bit of a catch-all, you see. Things trickle in from here and there of… _unique_ origin at times. I like to keep my eye out for particularly rare and exciting things that fall into our atmosphere on occasion.” Gor-yex stepped in after Lance and pressed the button of his desired destination. “Curiously, how did _you_ manage to come across Altean technology?”

Lance shrugged, hardly shaken by the question. “It happened to be something lying around a site the family business was looking to develop. Apparently it was some scrap dumpsite at one point. The technology looked old, unfamiliar, but also seemed to be functioning. I won’t know if it is working or not until I can get something to run it with.”

“I see. A curious type, aren’t you Mr. Tailor?” 

He feigned to buffed his nails on his chest with another idle shrug. “Looking to find new hobbies that I was unable to… _fund_ before.” 

Gor-yex grinned at that. “Ah yes, the young family heir to New Money. I’m certain you’ll be able to find many leisures to allocate your time to here on Sagev - perhaps even _here,_ at The Teal Rings.”

.

.

.

_Drip._

“Mnh. It’s possib-”

The doors had opened to a long, wide hall. The atmosphere was a stark contrast to the floor above where he had entered. Instead of the immaculate pearlescent colors that nearly blinded the eye, these walls were darker, furniture was muted and the sharp neon lighting was bold, but minimal. Gor-yex led him down a small set of steps that lined the hall like a long set of nestling boxes. As they walked, Lance could see what looked like cocktail services moving between rooms. Each room was adjoined to the ones next to it, sharing a wall on either side. The wall at the stairs was not there and the wall opposite that appeared to be glass. As they continued, Lance couldn’t really see what was in these ‘displays’. Much of his sight had been obstructed by the fact they walked on a lower level and the rest was blocked by the comfortable VIP-looking seating filled with various species of guests. The atmosphere was very muted and had a loungey feel to it. As he stuffed his hands into his pockets for the stroll, one of the waitresses sauntered up with a tray.

“Good evening, Gor-yex.” She gave a cute little bow. “Shall I call for your booth?”

“No, not tonight my dear.” He turned and motioned toward Lance. “This is Mr. Tailor. See if there is anything he would like brought to my office while we discuss some business.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tailor.”

“Well he- _llo_.” Lance reached to take her hand, the fabric of their gloves allowed them to slide effortlessly into one another. “I promise you the pleasure is _mine._ ”

She was quite the cute little shape. And the tight wrappings around her left only so much to the imagination. Any mammal could see she was exceedingly buxom and the paint on her face glowed almost as bright as the lighting. She giggled lightly at the kiss to her hand and Lance refused to let go, pulling her just a little bit closer.

“Can I get a tall glass of _you?”_ Lance purred with his debonair smirk. 

“I admire your boldness, Mr. Tailor.” Gor-yex smiled, “But I’m afraid that servers are not listed on our ‘ _menu'_ ”

“Y-your ears…” Lance looked back at the girl attached to the hand still in his. “They’re..”

“Hideous..” Lance grimaced, “Yes, I know.. I’ve been told.”

“I-I…” she took her hand back and brushed back what he guessed could be considered her hair. There was no shell on the side of her head, simply a hole on her skull to her audio receptors. “I was going to say that I thought they were exotic. I like them.”

Lance could feel a slight flush in his cheeks and he was thankful for the dimmer lighting. 

“It’s truly a shame that she isn’t…” he had brushed off the sudden bout of shyness and found his grin once again. “But I suppose - Nunvill?”

“My, my Mr. Tailor.” Gor-yex shooed the girl off, “You are quite bold in your tastes, aren’t you? Not to mention dedicated to your hobby. Even going after the Altean choice of drink.”

Truth be told, he didn’t know of any other type of drinks. The only think he could think of was that. He only hoped that he wouldn’t have to actually drink it…

“Well, this tech I have sort of kick started a small obsession it seems.” Lance stepped through the door Gor-yex opened for him.

“Mnh, perhaps we can find you a more modern obsession as well. If _I_ may be so bold.”

.

.

.

_Drip._

_Wrong. It had all gone so wrong. There were too many soldiers there. Every exit route they had planned was compromised and each contingency was counteracted. Explosives detonated sooner than they should have. Ships had all but been blown to heaping infernos almost immediately after they landed. The base knew. They_ knew _the attack was coming. So many Blades were lost in that attack and anyone that wasn’t dead was carted off to God-knows-where._

_Keith scoffed._

_God._

_Now there was a cryptid._

_What could he possibly know? What good could he possibly do? What good has he_ done _? Since the beginning of his life he had yet to see anything that proved there was any sense of astronomical justice. Everything was to fight, survive, push through pain, and struggle with hurt. Now this._

_._

_._

_._

_._

Drip.

_He was supposed to be shipped with some of the other captured Blades of Marmora to some off-planet POW facilities. At least, that’s what he thought. Suddenly he’s picked out of line with one or two others and thrown into separate transfer cages of sorts. No one spoke a word to him. No one answered his questions. No one even told him to shut the hell up with all the noise he made trying to get someone, anyone to give him answers._

_But maybe Keith didn’t want to know the answers. Maybe it was better he didn’t understand what was going to happen after that. Those last few moments of sanity were fleeting and now possibly lost for good. After what seemed like forever, with little food and water, he was yanked from his cage by Galra hands. Tired and weak any fight he tried to put up was easily subdued. The next moment he knew, he was face into the dirt with a boot pressed between his shoulder blades. Someone slipped something onto his head and his body seized in a wave of pain he had never felt before. The electric shock made his skin feel like pins pricked at him everywhere._

_He was lifted and carried down to a basement? Or was it a dungeon? All he could see was dark stone walls. All he could feel frigid air around him._

_“See that he’s stripped and chained. He’s a fiery one.” Keith heard a thick chortle. “Haven’t had one of those in a while. It’ll be fun to break him.”_

_That was all the easy part._

_._

_._

_._

_._

Drip.

Drip.

_His wrists were cuffed and lifted above his head by chain. His ankles were secured to the cold stone floor after his boots were removed. Any attempt he made to fight back or free himself was answered with the crawling pain down his spine and throughout every inch of his body. Tired and reeling from pain, he had no fight in him left when they put the blindfold on him. That was the last time he saw anything. After that he felt the pull of his suit and heard the ripping of fabric. He heard footsteps and mumbling in some language that he didn’t know. He was alone. Stripped, chained, and plunged in cold darkness. That was the last time he felt anything._

_Any benign touch anyway._

_After that came the pulses under his skin. The odd rhythmic firing of nerves. The numbnesses and the tinglings. He could feel his body temperature rise and was suddenly so very acutely aware of any movement of air against his skin. His voice echoed off the walls and he could hear his own breathing in his ears. He would periodically become uncomfortable for simply no reason at all and he would become restless in his chains. And he would ache. How he would ache._

_‘What the_ fuck _is wrong with me?!’_

_He was pissed at himself for allowing his body to become aroused at the most uncalled for moments. It was as if a switch in him was thrown and he lit up like a furnace. The only things he was thankful for is that after a few minutes, it would subside. The second, was that he was alone when these ridiculous sessions would happen._

_Until he wasn’t._

_Drifting in and out of consciousness in a black abyss made it difficult to have any sense of time. But he could guess it had at least been a couple days. The same routine of on-again-off-again body functions were suddenly interrupted by the shrill scream of a metal door swinging open and wheels squeaking and trays clattering. Suddenly his heart raced and he could hear the blood rushing in his head._

_“Who are you?!” he screamed, “What do you want with me?”_

_There was still no answer._

_“Let me out of here! You assholes listening to me!? Let me GO!”_

_He struggled to the best of his abilities. But he was still tired. He was still hungry. He was still weak. The burst of energy was expended completely with the body shock one more time. As he screamed in pain, a cylinder was placed in his mouth and strapped around his head. They had gagged him. He felt another surge and his teeth sunk into the firm, but apparently slightly pliable rod._

_He heard chatter._

_Then he felt a prick on his arm._

_“This will keep your body sustained for the time being. We’ve done some preliminary scans of your biology and we are certain that this is what you need in order to function normally.”_

_Keith attempted to form words, but only succeeded in mumbling around his gag._

_“Trust me. This is much easier for you if you just stop fighting.”_

_His brows knitted tightly behind his blindfold. He would never stop fighting. Fighting was everything he was. Standing here helpless was not going to be forever. He would find a way to get out of this mess. He had to._

_That was when he felt something shift between his legs. Immediately he tried to shift away from it, but he was still held down by his anklets. It was cold. And it was slick. And it was hard._

_He heard that voice again. Only it spoke the other language and he couldn’t understand._

_Suddenly he could feel it. His body was getting warm. His limbs were getting restless. ‘No. No, not now. Not now!’ He fought still. With every bit he had left, he fought his own body back._

_“I promise you it will be best if you simply relax.” the voice insisted, “Increase the vasopressin production to six percent and begin the minor ramp of dopamine.”_

_What the fuck were they pumping into him? What the hell did they want with him? What the_ fuck _was that?!_

_His hands wrenched and twisted trying to get some kind of leverage from his bindings as his nerves began to prickle again. Slowly his breathing grew more ragged and his insides began to warm. He could still hear voices. He could hear them chit chatting as he felt his body get away from him. He didn’t even know how many these beings were present watching him. Watching him have to suffer through whatever the hell was going on with him._

_He was hard._

_He didn’t want to be. He wasn’t even remotely aroused. At least, he was pretty sure he wasn’t. But his physicality begged to differ. Any movement of air against his skin was enough of a caress to send a shiver down his spine. His teeth began to, literally, chomp at the bit as he shifted relentlessly, fighting this drowning urge and suffering through the embarrassment of an unwelcome audience._

_He felt something begin to manipulate him. He felt foreign brushes and slips and he growled. He was feeling a slight rise in energy. He wasn’t sure if it was whatever they were feeding him intravenously or if it was simply sheer the adrenaline of his fight-or-flight reflex. But he bucked and twisted in every effort to back away from whatever was feeling up him. As a credit to his effort, they did stop. But only to come at him from behind. That hard, cold presence was suddenly_ inside _. He tried to scream. Scream in pain. Scream in surprise. Scream in just utter outrage. He was being_ probed _of all fucking things! But every sound he made was just garbled nothing from the lack of life force within him that was dampened by the gag in his mouth. He was penetrated and wholly violated._

_Truly, that’s all that it was. A simple probe. But it was thorough. He felt shifting. He felt vibrations. He could practically hear the whirring with each adjustment that dove deeper, every twist that widened, and each gear turn backward. Eventually, his growls devolved. His breaths began coming in heated drags. Each touch and brush and movement he felt twisted his vocal chords into a sickening moan._

_He could hear them._

_Keith could hear his own voice bounce off the walls and wrap themselves around his ears and crawl into his head to nestle there._

_He was nauseated by it._

_He was sickened by his own body, his own being. It betrayed him. It betrayed him completely and played to every whim his captors fancied._

_There were voices again. They talked for a moment and suddenly he felt the intrusion ebb. It was slow enough to be considered gentle, but he wouldn’t dare give it that much credit. He heard a digital beeping for a few seconds and then the shrill creak of the door. The scurry of feet and soft banter followed and then silence. Keith was alone again._

_He was alone._

_He was still erect._

_And, curiously, he was still feeling warmer._

_He could feel the chill of whatever concoction they were pumping into him flow into his veins. But it barely did enough to stop his skin from perspiring. As he shifted he could tell he began to feel slick with his own sweat, the air in the room began to feel different because of it. His hips squirmed and his legs grew restless as he felt his body’s lewd demands thicken. Keith’s fists clenched as he pulled against his chains and he could feel the slow trickle of pre-ejaculation down his appendage._

_‘W-what the_ fuck _is happening?!’_

_His mind reeled and his eyes rolled back behind his blindfold as his muscles tensed. Keith’s breath hitched in his throat._

_Release._

_Complete euphoric expulsion._

_If he had any food in his stomach, he would have thrown it up. His body didn’t even have any energy to dry heave. But he was sickened. He was sickened by it all. And he was tired. Out of breath. Just overwhelmed with complete exhaustion. Soon enough, his consciousness drifted away, leaving him there, soft and soiled. Alone. In complete darkness.._

_._

_._

_._

Drip.

_He could only assume it was in the interval of days. He would have these ‘occurrences’ that racked his body with carnal mutiny, the ebb and flow rolling in and out in the possible span of hours. Most days, he was alone with the demons of his own voice driving like nails into his mind. Other days, it was the same scene of probing and chatter he couldn’t comprehend. Those seemed more distantly spaced, though, to whatever amount of relief he had left._

_Still._

_It was enough to eat away at his resolve. It was enough to chip at his strength. It was enough to douse the fires in his soul. He found no more slack in his restraints than he had the first day he arrived, even after all of his struggles. He eventually figured that they only laxed his chains when he passed out in order to keep blood flowing to his extremities. These people had a system - and it was perfect. Keith was a shell. He was a sexual toy to rape and pillage and experiment with and it drained him so completely._

_The only way he could hold on to what was left of his sanity was to hold onto something. Hold onto something real. In the quiet black that he eventually got accustomed to, he had little else to do but listen. The one thread that kept him from snapping was the sound of water hitting the flagstone floor of his cell. Patience… and focus._

_._

_._

_._

_._

Drip.

_Focus._

_._

_._

_._

_._

Drip.

_Focus._

_The metal swing of the door pierced his ears and through his bones._

_“Alright, Champ.” he never heard this one before, “It’s show time.”_

_Drip._

“I mean, the old man’s suddenly got way more money than he knows how to deal with.” Lance scoffed with a wave of his hand. “He’s not going to miss a few thousand GAC here and there.”

“And all that credit just because of a tiny serving stick with a little plume on the top.” Gor-yex mused, “How perfectly delicious.”

“That’s the whole point, my friend.” Lance shot him a wink with a finger gun.

“Well, indeed! Now that we have the matter of payment settled, I’ll make sure to get that delivered to you post-haste. If you don’t mind a short wait..” 

“Please. I’ve got nothin’ but time, Gor-yex.” Lance paused. “Oh, and _money!_ ”

They shared a belly laugh.

Lance wiped a tear from his eye and both wandered back up the steps to the sectioned spaces. 

“So, what’s the show anyway?” He motioned up with his chin.

“Aaah.” his host couldn’t help but rub his hands together. “Now, this is an opportunity to test the waters of a different sort of _hobby._ ”

Lance piqued a brow curiously, arms crossed in a way that his body language screamed ‘convince me’ to the smaller creature.

“I admit it was a sheer pleasure to have this transaction with you, Mr. Tailor. But I assure you, to solidify your business completely would elate me to no end - knowing that we could have a long and fruitful business relationship.” Gor-yex waved for Lance to follow. “As a bit of a _friendly_ incentive, perhaps you wouldn’t mind a free look…?”

Lance’s eyes narrowed and he considered. He still had to wait for - something - to show up before he could leave. No sense in being bored while he waited for this formula to drop into his hands. He uncrossed an arm and shrugged, aloof, and followed.

“Madame Egraahn.” Gor-yex bowed deeply, “Forgive the intrusion, but would you mind allowing my young friend here to share your company this evening?”

She was lithe, simple looking against her gaudy outfit - and flat. The thing had no enticing sway about her Lance could notice in the dark. She lifted her head and peeked out from under the brim of her plumed chapeau. 

“Mmnh..” Oh. Well, her voice was rather _sultry_ , She offered a satin wrapped tri-phalanged hand. _Was everyone a germaphobe?_ “Please do. I would be interested in what a second pair of eyes will think of this new show.”

Lance followed suit and bowed deeply as he accepted it and brought it to his lips with a hooded glance. “You’re most gracious Madame.”

“Ooh, how bold.” She smiled, “What’s your name? Where are you from?”

“Tailor… and I can be from anywhere you like.” He kept hold of her hand and slid up next to her, dressed fully in his character.

Her smile curled further into a grin and she took her hand back, using it to grab his chin lightly. “Careful Mr. Tailor. I may just ask to have you put in the show as well.”

“Ah, well… “ he winked playfully. “I wouldn’t want to overshadow your main act.”

Gor-yex chuckled, rather pleased with the interaction before he clapped his hands. The lights in their ‘private booth’ dimmed and the lights beyond the glass clipped on. The Madame peeked over in the corner of her eye.

“Then let’s see what you’re up against, shall we?.” 

She turned Lance’s chin toward the ‘stage’ and his heart stopped dead in his chest.

_._

_._

_._

_._

.

.

He hated to admit it. Even if it was only to himself. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what was happening. But it felt so good to be off of his feet. When he was brought into this new room they forced him down onto his knees - with what felt like a catch-pole. The collar around his neck was tight but not restricting. He was a dog at the end of a stick being led around like some animal. Still, it was a reprieve to break from standing while still conscious. 

The new room felt cold, just as the first did. But it felt like a different sort of frigid. He felt the snaps around his calves. Mechanical. Machine cold. Heartless. He felt some other mechanized arm pull at his wrist restraints and they separated, only to be pulled around behind him and rejoined so that his arms folded behind his back. 

“Don’t forget to smile pretty now.”

He heard a door slide shut hydraulically and suddenly he felt himself lifted from the ground. He felt the collar pull forward and up, easing him up from a sit to settling his weight on his knees. It was an oddly gentle guiding that still left him maneuverability, but would rehome his head up and back like the gentle pull of a magnet. 

Keith simply allowed it. His fatigue had buried him. His strength had abandoned him. His strand of sanity had vanished. His eyes closed behind their cover and he suddenly felt the heat of light. He knew what followed.

-

Lance didn’t notice himself slowly shifting to the edge of his seat. The last thing he ever thought he would see behind the glass was… _That!_

_Keith...?_

His mind refuted it. No. It can’t be him. There is no way in any fucking reality Keith would be put in a… a - _position_ like this! The man would kill everything on the planet before that would ever -

Lance startled silently. He heard it. He heard his voice. He could _hear_ him. _They_ could hear him. They could hear - they could see - _everything_. Lance stared, eyes unimaginably wide in sullied sense of awe, at the full visage of Keith legs clamped to a pair of pedestals, a tasteless neon collar around his neck, his arms obviously restrained behind him, and completely open and _bare_ to the world beyond him. 

Lance swallowed thickly as took in ‘the show’.

“Ngh…” 

It was breathy. And he saw Keith shift slightly. His shoulder moved a little. But his chest was clearly beginning to draw deeper, longer breaths. 

Lance’s jaw had slacked with the intent to speak, but words never formed - in his mouth or in his mind. 

Keith’s breaths had become vocal and his shifting became more prominent. As did his sexual arousal. His chest rose and fell quicker and Lance watched as Keith’s head lolled slightly from one shoulder to the other. Lance’s hand gripped at his pant leg subconsciously as he found he couldn’t look away. He was listening to Keith’s breathing become more ragged and desperate, punctuated by the occasional thick moan. 

“I-I don’t unders-” Lance was shushed by Madame’s tutting. 

“Quite, dear.” she waved a folded hand fan in his direction before opening it up and fanning herself slowly. “Wait until it’s finished.”

Until _it’s finished?_

She was rather nonchalant about the entire display. Like she was simply sitting in front of the television watching some news anchor drone on about nothing in particular. Lance meanwhile didn’t know what he felt. He was emotionally conflicted with the need to do something immediately to help his comrade, but fighting to keep as calm as he could outwardly, lest he risk his initial mission - or everything. He was stuck, frozen solid with a storm of adrenaline, conflicting choices, emotional turmoil within him, and - _oh, sweet holy **fuck.**_

Every breath that they bathed in from the speakers was laced with his voice. Lance could see his jaw clenching around the stick in his mouth as he groaned, uninhibited. He writhed now. Keith’s hips shifted forward, tense for a moment. Then relaxed. Again. Then again. The rhythm was slightly erratic, but constant. It was hypnotizing and Lance couldn’t help but focus on the center of it all until motions finally seized completely in the inevitable climax. 

Lance swallowed and found his throat was completely dry. He was aroused! He was fucking _turned on!_ Unlike Keith, who had settled back onto his heels, legs still open to them, glistening in his own sweat beneath the lamp light, soft and dripping with ejaculate. Lance’s ears echoed with the muffle groaning of his voice.

_...Keith.._

“A splendid performance.” Madame Egraahn, shifted in her seat with a pleasant little bounce and faced Lance, “Quite the beast, wouldn’t you say?”

“I-I” he stammered, looking at her for only a second before his eyes pulled back to Keith, still a heaving pile of spent sexual energy.

“Now, Gor-yex…” he had been standing beside their seat the entire time, patiently supervising the show and being privy to anything Lance - or the Madame - would need. “The biometrix stated he was half Galran. He looks nothing like Galra.”

_No question it’s him now._

“Surprisingly, much of the physical traits of Galran genetics are recessive.” he answered, “It seems that whatever the other half of him is, it has completely overtaken much, if not all, of the physical Galran appearance. But I assure you, he is half-bred.”

“Well.. I have to say that I’m rather disappointed that he shows no evidence in his appearance.” she sighed and fanned, “But, I was not at all displeased with the overall result.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Lance interrupted, somewhat audibly irritated, “What the _hell_ is going on? What just happened?”

“Forgive the outburst, Madame,” Gor-yex bowed, “This is his first taste of some of the services Sagev has to offer. He’s newly minted, you see.”

“Oh, precious child…” she cooed, running her two fingers through his silken gold hair. “My species procreates asexually. There are no bells and whistles or ritualistic dances. There’s no need for sexual organs or hormonal balancing. If, say, someone like _me_ was interested in seeing such curiosities The Teal Rings provides me this opportunity. If there is any particular species I wish to view, it delivers. My curiosities are quelled and I find the entire concept rather enjoyable to see. It’s quite a lovely service.” 

It was a strip club. No, it was a fucking stockyard of human trafficking - _alien_ trafficking? It didn’t fucking matter. What they were doing - what Gor-yex was providing was sick! He was treating “specimens” like chattel! Worse, he was treating _Keith_ like some kind of exotic flavor to throw in a box and - and -

“How long would it take if I asked you to find a compatible specimen, Gor-yex?” she asked, tapping her chin with her fan, looking Keith over.

“What does that mean?” Lance hated to ask. Anywhere the conversation could go would not be good.

“It means I want to have someone use him.” she answered flatly.

“I’ll do it!” Lance’s jaw clenched after his outburst. 

Holy shit. Holy _shit._ What was happening? His head was spinning so fast he was starting to feel dizzy. First, how _the fuck_ could they do that to Keith? Second, how the hell could he just have just sat there and _watched_? That made him just as guilty as the others - he was _still_ sitting there with a god damned semi! Third, he couldn’t just let them _find someone ‘compatible’_ to - to _use him_?! These were sick fucking people! If there was no getting him out of this whole bullshit reality right now, then he could at _least…_

He could at least....

At least what?

What was he offering himself to do?

“Ah, Mr. Tailor!” Gor-yex stepped up and offered Lance a disk, “Here you are, my good sir. The transaction is complete!”

Lance took the offer in a daze, forgetting what it was, as well as his last train of thought. “Thanks.”

“Gor-yex, you must listen to this.” Madame clearly had a haughty delight in her voice. “I had asked you to find me a compatible specimen for my next viewing - and Mr. Tailor has volunteered.”

Gor-yex looked at Lance with an astonished curiosity.

“Well…” Lance cleared his throat and stood from his seat, “You said, yourself, earlier, that you would think to have _me_ on display. Didn’t you?”

Egraahn simply looked up at him with a dark delight in her eyes, offering no answer. Nor a refute. 

“I knew I liked you, Mr. Tailor!” Gor-yex beamed, “You are truly a bold creature, indeed! You are quite the young blood, I must say. I do hope that we see you in a regular pattern of business. I knew you had an eye when you spoke with the service. But to think that you would eat from the menu rather than simply _view it._ Such gusto! Unfortunately, Madame Egraahn has full exclusivity for the time being. I’m afraid that you will have to-”

“For how long?” Lance interrupted. But his question was directed to the seated lady. “How long is your lease on him?”

“A movement.”

“...A session. And I’ll pay back half the price.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Penetration.” 

“What?”

“My intention, Mr. Tailor, was to see him _fucked_.” Madame leaned forward from her seat and picked up a glass filled with some smoldering, glowing drink, “I have my reasons. And, though it saddens me to an extent that his Galran ancestry is not physically apparent, I will see him writhe. The fact that he is half-breed to some uncategorized species has captured my interest all the more, you see.”

He had no bearing on where this woman was coming from or where her dark desires stemmed from, but it was clear to Lance that Keith was in serious trouble at the hands of the Madame. There was no room for him to cave to his inner uncertainties about the situation. Either he was going to save Keith any way he had the means to, or he was going to be forced to walk away and leave him to whatever fucked up ideas Egraahn’s money could buy.

“If you really think you’ll be able to watch him instead of me the entire time, I see no problem with that.” 

She didn’t expect such a response. Her sudden expression provided that much. He saw she was impressed and she smiled. 

“Goodness me, Mr. Tailor. I must say this is rather unconventional-” Gor-yex began to insist.

“Gor-yex, I will allow it.” Egraahn insisted with the wave of her fan before sipping her drink. “Have a go, Mr. Tailor. No need to spend your credit here. Not just yet.”

“Well then.” The astonishment in Gor-yex’s eyes seemed a permanent fixture from then on. Each glance in Lance’s direction was laced with a subtle chuckle or caress of his hands - and… tendrils. “If you would be obliged to follow me, we’ll see you into the room.”

Lance pocketed his prize for the time being. He would have to figure out when and how to let the others know he got what he came for but was unduly withheld. Jesus, what would he even _say_ to them? Would he tell them at all? He was pretty certain Shiro would flip his shit once they found out what was going on with Keith and the others would follow right behind him, straight down to Sagev and into a serious shit storm from what the Alteans and Matt had provided. This had to be the only way. This had to be the only way for all of them to get out with their skins intact. Lance wanted a real mission to prove himself. He supposed this was just what he asked for. 

_._

_._

_Fuck._

He already screwed it up. He had spent so much time trying to figure out semantics and hypotheticals that he hardly paid any attention to where Gor-yex was taking him. He missed the door that took them to the back halls. He missed the lock mechanism and how to disengage it. The back halls were a fucking maze and he missed almost all of it. His fists clenched in his silent scolding as they approached the door.

“If you are in need of anything, Mr. Tailor, simply say so.” Gor-yex tapped the panel and picked out the code, “We’ll be able to hear you, nice and crisp. Otherwise, do enjoy yourself.”

“I intend to.” was the only thing he could think to say before he was shut inside.

Intend to? Intend to what, exactly? Lance kept avoiding it each time it came to mind. But now, there was no running from it. From what he had committed to. From what he… Lance felt a thick swallow ease down his throat. 

He could hear the airy breaths forced from Keith’s nostrils ricocheting off the metal walls. He could see the shifting of his frame as he heaved, probably still tired from that first ‘session’. He was a lump of deep magenta shadows against the bright teal front light - a racy quintessentially eighties motiff the Teal Ring underground seemed to relish in. Lance stepped closer and his eyes slowly drank in the scene in person. The colors shifted as he slowly stepped around him, the click of his heels a stark indication to Keith that he was no longer alone. The contrast of colors did well to detail every inch of Keith and Lance couldn’t ignore every chiseled line and groove of muscle that shifted with each breath. He couldn’t stop himself from noting the way each sweat moistened flex glistened into the clash of colors. When Lance came to stand in front of Keith, he nearly shuddered at the way he was just simply _offered_ to him. 

Lance cast a glance over his shoulder. Lights on the other side of the glass had brightened and he could see his audience clearly. Madame Egraahn lifted her drink to him with a smirk. She awaited her show.

Carefully, he reached to brush some of Keith’s dark strands from his face. Lance almost jumped at the sudden recoil from Keith. It was to be expected, his circumstances considered. Lance wanted so much to tell Keith it was him. But he couldn’t. The second anyone realized they were acquainted, every chance they had of escape was as dead as they would be. He wanted to calm the fear of a cornered animal wanting to strike but unable. Lance wanted dearly to apologize for what he had to do. 

What he _wanted to do._

Keith had left months ago. Ages ago. The team had functioned well enough as it was - they had enough to keep their minds and time focused away from arbitrary things like a missing teammate. But, in the time they had with Keith, Lance had felt like they had grown together. The time had given them an opportunity to connect better, understand each other in a different light. Lance truly had come to feel Keith had become a friend. While his attentions had always been magnetically aligned to Allura, with Keith’s presence shifted to the Blades of Marmora, Lance was not unaware of the difference in his absence. Never admitted aloud, but Lance… missed him. It wasn’t until now that he realized just what else he had possibly considered of Keith.

After that _display_ , Lance’s mind was bathed in a sexual curiosity he never had the chance to consider before the option removed itself. But here it was, plated for him with the syrup of absolute freedom to explore. He was doing it to save his friend. He had to. The rest of it just _happened_ to fall in his favor. 

Right?

-

“Gor-yex, how are his levels?” Ergaahn asked after a delicate sip.

“Still rather potent… Shall I adjust them, Madame?”

“Remove the stimulators. Let’s see if Mr. Tailor is as much action as he is boasting.”

“Of course, Madame.”

-

Lance reached for Keith again, caressing his cheek lightly, even as it shifted away again. He listened to the former paladin’s tensed, quickened breathing through flared nostrils, and his eyes drifted down his neck and to his heaving chest. Soon, his hand did the same. If only he hadn’t been wearing gloves. If only he could feel Keith’s skin in earnest. But settling for the rise and fall of it against his palm would do well enough for now.

The tips of his fingers brushed over an erect nipple and Keith jerked with a gasp. Lance licked his lips lightly and pressed back upward. He felt Keith’s pec tense and his torso crumpled as much as it could, trying to shy away from the touch. Lance wanted to see more. His fingers traced the fleshy circle and slipped over the erection again. When it earned a vocal response, taking it between his thumb and index finger, he twisted and pulled. Keith groaned thickly and Lance was committed. 

He lowered himself to his knees, exactly as Keith sat before him. Keith’s risers were positioned high enough that he was at the perfect level for Lance to tongue at his nipples. He tasted sweeter than Lance thought he would. Yes, there were the salty overtones of sweat, but there was something saccharine about his flavor that he couldn’t get enough of. Lance dragged the body of his tongue over it and soon his lips sealed around the areola. His fingers toyed and flicked at its partner as he orally pulled and suckled. He only became bolder with the growing moans and sighs filling the room around him. 

Everything began to spin. 

It took a few seconds to realize that the room itself was actually spinning - or at least the floor. Lance stopped, looking around them and watching the room shift ninety degrees. He shot a look toward the glass and saw Egraahn smile and wave him to continue. 

_Christ… Can’t miss out on anything, can you?_

He looked up at Keith sighed, determination renewed, but so very much aroused. He didn’t even know that Keith could make sounds like that before. Now, he was the reason Keith was vocalizing so sensually. This was a side he was sure few - if any - had seen of him and Lance wanted to bask in it. Bathe in it. Drown in it. 

  
“Don’t worry little lion… I promise, I’ll take care of you.”

Lance heard Keith take a sharp gasp at that, stealing his breath for a moment. He wasn’t sure why he even said such a thing. It was pompous and presumptive. It made it seem like he had done this before - and that he was good at it. He never did anything like this before. He never imagined he would end up doing this. But he had to be somewhat decent at it. Keith was already partially engorged. Lance couldn’t help but stare. He thought Keith seemed well endowed watching him from the seat outside. Up close it was even bigger - and it wasn’t even fully erect yet! 

Lance’s hands reached for Keith’s shoulders and dragged heavy and slowed down his chest, his fingers splayed out to cover as much as possible. Every inch of Keith was solid muscle and even through his gloves, Lance could feel the heat permeating from his skin. He pressed his lips to the center of his torso and tasted it. He pressed more kisses down Keith’s centerline and drank it. Meanwhile, his hands had flowed all the way down to his hips, forming to every curving line that led up his sides. Keith shifted and swayed slightly with the touches. Lance heard a low audible sigh. They waterfalled down Keith’s arched back and came to rest atop his thighs as Lance came to face the only thing he could think of the last few minutes. 

How was he supposed to do this? What if he was bad at it? What if he was _terrible?_ The only consolation was that Keith currently had no idea it was him if it ended up being a disaster. But… he wanted to. Lance simply had to just wing it. He figured, if he just did what _he_ thought would feel good perhaps that was a start. He wanted at least to try. 

Lance reached to hold him and Keith bucked lightly with could have been a growl. Or a groan. It was hard to tell from between Keith’s thighs. Gently, Lance cupped him completely and allowed his hand to drag out to the tip. It was hot. He was surprised at how much warmth was in his hand. This time he heard Keith moan for certain. Lance repeated the motion. Then again, fingers gently gripping and pulling at the muscle. His hand worked to gently coax more blood to flow and generate more audible satisfaction. He stopped to allow his middle finger and thumb to enclose around Keith’s blossoming tip and twisted his wrist. Lance felt Keith’s body twitch and jerk slightly then and he was pleased. He had to have been doing alright to garner those sorts of reactions. 

He sighed deeply. 

Lance was beginning to feel drunk with want and soon found himself mouthing at Keith’s base. His eyes drifted closed as his lips formed and shaped to Keith, his tongue caressing the skin eagerly and moistened with thirst. Keith’s hips raised slightly and Lance felt legs shift further to accomodate for more space, almost asking him for more. To which Lance felt wholly obliging. He trailed kisses all down the full length in his hand, making certain each was broken with that satisfying smack. Once he reached Keith’s end, his tongue snaked out to cradle it fully. Slowly he dragged it back, keeping pressure full and even. He felt Keith tremble and looked up at him, fixated on the way his body heaved with each quickened, desperate breath. Lance wanted to see what happened when he finally slipped him into his mouth. He watched as he did so. Slowly. Intently. Deliberately. He ease his mouth around Keith’s bulb and suckled gently, relishing the warm flavor of it. There was a shudder that led into a stuttered moan and Lance took more. As he swallowed more of Keith’s hardened muscle, he reached to hold him at his base, using his palm to manipulate the flesh beneath. 

Keith’s desperate nasal breaths punctuated with gagged moans and sputters drenched Lance’s ears. The flavors of Keith’s sex mixing with the visual erotica that was his body struggling to cope with all his restrains. Sweet Jesus, Lance was so undeniably aroused. He was dying inside to take the gloves off, to yank the gag from Keith’s lips and swallow every trace of sound from his throat. He wanted to delve in and search for them himself. He wanted to pull the blindfold from his eyes and make him see. Make Keith realize it was him, if only to hear Keith choke out his name. He wanted to shatter his bonds and feel Keith clutch for him, claw at his skin in salacious desperation. God, did he want it all. 

_Keith.._

He knew the second anything like that happened, they would be in dire straights. He was pretty sure that working Keith loose for any sort of reason was against the establishment's guidelines. Already, Gor-yex seemed extraordinarily interested in Lance - Mr. Tailor, rather. And to give him reason to dig any further was probably not in either of their best interest. Lance had to keep a level head - his own anyway. He had to keep some wits about him if he was going to actually try pulling this off. He still wasn’t even sure what ‘this thing’ was. But how was he even supposed to be able to figure out a plan when he was in the middle of - Fuck, just _say it! -_ sucking Keith off and enjoying it! _Really_ enjoying it. 

The more he wanted, the hungrier he felt, the more he took in and the harder he sucked. His pace had become forceful enough that the hair of his wig began to get in the way. Scooping it all to one side helped. He would only break for air, his fingers taking the place of his lips. It Keith in a continuous pattern of hot and wet, fast and hard. Lance would have to hush his panting on occasion lest he let Keith’s name crash against his skin in an unchecked breath. Eventually, Keith’s hips rolled into time with Lance and he knew his climax was soon. He slowed then, careful as he pushed the envelope, feeling Keith slide further back and into his throat. As big as it was, Lance didn’t think it wasn’t that bad. Sluggishly he pulled back and repeated the process. Before he could take Keith in completely a fourth time, he broke. Lance could feel the convulsions and tasted the result of his work en force. The moan that cracked through the dulled noise sent a shiver down his spine. 

As Keith finished, Lance spat. He wasn’t quite to that point yet. Both kept still for a moment, breaths catching up to their racing hearts. Lance moved to his feet and wiped his mouth with the back of a gloved hand. He reached for Keith with the other, raking his fingers into black sweat-matted hair. They rubbed gently at the back of Keith’s neck as kisses fell against his neck. They traced up and along his jawline and nipped at his ear. If only he could look him in the eyes properly. No matter how he looked at it...

“We are a good team.”

He hadn’t even realized the words left his lips before Keith was suddenly racked with stifled sobs. He reached to lightly wipe away a stray tear with wide eyes. Before anything else could be said or done, the door at the back of the room was opened and Gor-yex stood waiting for Keith with a beaming smile. 

“If you would please.” he urged.

  
Lance had to go. He looked to the window and Madame Egraahn beckoned. His eyes fell onto Keith, sniffling softly. He caressed his cheek lightly before turning to leave. _Don’t worry, buddy… I’m here for you. I swear._ It crushed Lance to leave Keith that way, but he was determined more than ever to find a way to get him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I _promise you_ it will get better..
> 
> Comments, kudos, and general thoughts are absolutely appreciated and always welcomed! 


	2. Exeunt

What fresh fucking hell was that?!

That was it. 

He was crazy.

They finally just broke his last cerebral connection to reality. 

Keith was now unfit as a functioning sentient entity.

It was difficult enough to not have that safety line to reach out for after that first wave hit. His surroundings had changed, so what he had unfortunately become accustomed to was gone. That dependable meditative drip was no longer there for him to hold on to what sad reality he had left. Then - _then_ the second round happened. 

Keith was powerless. Defenseless. He was helpless to every caress, touch, and tactile sensation. The last time he felt a living touch was when he was being physically violated. The last time he was surrounded by voices was when he had been robbed of his decency, stripped of his dignity, and left to wallow in his cold violated prison. The simple fact that these touches were gentle, interested, almost amicable in nature only fueled Keith’s ire. After everything he had suffered alone, without interaction, without pity, without consideration of him at all, now they had the fucking temerity to caress him _that_ way?! 

All that anger, however, was merely the spark, the simple kindling. The fuel that kept his inner rage growing was the fact that his body had utterly betrayed him. He was no longer in control of himself. He had no force of will in his heart strong enough to fight the new reality that his body _craved_ everything that happened. He had become so utterly voracious for contact. His nerves were unbearably keen to each brush on his skin. His flesh burned every place he felt the press of a kiss. When he felt the oral play on his chest, his body screamed for it to never stop. 

Worst of all was that the one thing that he had counted on to stay true were his ears. But when he heard that first whisper, he wasn’t even sure that he could count on those any longer. His mind had spiraled so far out of control that he could have sworn he heard the word ‘lion’ - and it filled the room in _Lance_ _’s_ voice. 

Lance.

Lance was the last person that would be there. In that room. With Keith’s erection in his mouth. Lance, Former Blue Paladin of Team Voltron, Current Red Paladin and Right Hand, Expert Ninja Sharpshooter, Ace Pilot, and _Lady_ _’s Man._ Full-time flirt to anything feminine. In the quick ticks of being the Black Paladin, Keith was surprised to find the shift in team dynamics. But most poignantly was how quickly he and Lance seemed to finally connect. He wasn’t surprised that Lance was the bigger man and shifted gears first, but he _was_ surprised at how simple it was to follow suit. He was amazed with how effortless it had been to depend on him. He was impressed with how seamlessly Lance seated into his new role. He was scared with how quickly he began to fall for him. Things just clicked and feelings started to fall into place, and they were getting too close too quick. With Shiro back and the Blade of Marmora pushing forward as much as they were, it was the perfect opportunity for Keith to arrange the pieces himself. 

The small blip of silver lining Keith found in his immediate situation was the fact that perhaps, in this way, he could have that small pleasure. If he had to be forced into sexual acquiescence, then he could at least allow himself the fantasy of having it be someone he would never have the chance to experience it with. If he could fantasize about it being Lance, maybe he could forget the dark pocket of the universe he was in _for just a moment_. At least Lance could be that element that balanced him out - just like he had as his right hand with Voltron. If he could just pretend. He could give himself the solace of imagining it to be someone he could dare tread the line of being in love with. If he could just believe it was Lance, he would be able to suffer through everything.

Surprisingly, for the most part, it worked. 

Then the moment came when he realized that he was thoroughly shattered. 

_“We are a good team”_

It would have been a glorious finish _in his mind_. The perfect punctuation to one of the most realistic fantasies he ever imagined. Except he felt the breath crash against his ear and his skin rippled with goosebumps. There was absolutely no _fucking way_ that was real. To have such a callback attack him so thoroughly only proved that he was just simply driven insane. His mind had contorted whatever lexical puke felt against his ears into a phrase that Keith would die to hear again in a voice he longed for so deeply.

He wished terribly that he could suffocate himself with his sobs. He was so tired. So empty.

He felt the pull of his catch pole once again. 

It seemed the show was over.

  
  


_..Drip.._

  
  


“Please tell me where you found this delightful morsel. Gor-yex.” 

Lance grimaced slightly as he found Madame Egraahn waiting for him, clearly pleased.

“He happened to fall onto our doorstep on his own, Madame.” her host chuckled.

“I- I thought that you wanted-” Lance was surprised to find he had difficulty holding himself together and speaking as eloquently as he had earlier.

“Tut-tut.” she waived her fan at him. “I must say that you are quite the brash young buck. I mean, goodness, you took him into your _mouth_ and just - I’m utterly speechless. It was marvelous how quickly you had gotten him to climax. Far better than anything I was expecting with someone else - and _without_ any applied stimulant!”

“Wha-what does that mean?” Lance stammered.

“The darling little circlet, my sweet Mr. Tailor.” she pointed out.

Lance recalled the thin strip of metal around Keith’s head. It blinked and pulsed in a few different colors every once in a while, but he was far too distracted by so much more to pay any more mind to it than a passing glance.

“All of the merchandise is fitted with a circlet.” Gor-yex said that and it made Lance’s insides twist. “It’s a device that allows complete control of their electromagnetic system. Each one is put through rigorous trials and testing in order to find out what specific frequencies initiate or inhibit the production of sexual hormones, physical and mental stimulation. This way we are able to gather information and build their bio-matrix indexes as well - how much stimulation is needed and where in order to adjust their sexual potency to one’s desire. And - should there be a need - such devices also feature behavioral correction.” Gor-yex slipped a tenta-hand to the side of his mouth in a sly whisper, “Though sometimes that just turns out to be a different sort of sexual stimulant.”

Lance had to figure out how to get Keith out - _now_.

“I’m afraid that you’ve kept your part of the bargain for today, Mr. Tailor.” Madame lifted herself from her seat and smooth the skirt of her dress.

“For today?” Lance looked at her with wide eyes.

“Oh, I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly stand another lurid performance this evening.” she giggled demurely, “I will be nothing if not elated to see you both tomorrow. After _that_ , I’m certain that it will be one to remember.”

“I- I can’t… I mean- I don’t have-” Lance was scrambling for something - anything - to try and find a way to get out of staying there another day. He needed to get the code to the Castle and Voltron, and it shook him to the core to wonder what Keith would have to go through if he stayed.

“Hmm…” Madame Egraahn smirked at him darkly as Gor-yex, as small a thing as he was, helped her scoot around her seat and table. “Come, come now. It’s just until tomorrow. Gor-yex, give him a room. I wouldn’t want Mr. Tailor to be put out simply because having to do a little favor for me.”

Gor-yex bowed.

“But I-” 

“Oh, you are _virile._ ” she laughed as she went on her way.

_Shit._

What was he going to do? What was he going to _do?_

Lance had to figure something out. 

He managed to contact Pidge and update her on the progress of the initial mission. Well, actually, he lied. Just a little. He told her that he bought the info, but they hadn’t handed it to him yet. He had to wait until tomorrow. It was only _kind of_ a lie. He didn’t even want to mention that Keith was around. Even if he didn’t exactly let on what was happening, he was sure that everyone, certainly Shiro, would be down in a heartbeat. Then shit would get really fuc-... screw-... Things would become so much more difficult than they would need to be.

This was all on him.

But he didn’t even know where to start. He didn’t know where they took him. He didn’t even know how to _get_ anywhere. He had literally walked in a straight line the entire time he was in the god damned place. The only turn he made was when he was taken to his room. 

Lance growled loudly, frustrated, and started pounding his forehead lightly with the heel of his hand. He hoped that would get something to start working, some kind of idea, some kind of plan to formulate.

There was a knock at his door. He took a deep breath and sighed in relief to the fact that he hadn’t removed any of his ensemble just yet. 

_Man... If it_ _’s that weird fucking Madame looking for something extra, I’m going to hurl._

He opened the door and found Gor-yex standing to greet him with his _creepily_ excited smile.

“Gor-yex. Hi..?”

“The Madame was kind enough to offer you some relief. She realized, in asking you to complete your side of the bargain tomorrow may have…” Gor-yex tapped his lips with a sly glance, “Perhaps _hindered_ some of your own personal satisfactions.”

“...” True. There was that. Something that managed to subside on its own since other matters had been more pressing. But now that Good Ol’ Gory was bringing it back _up_ _…_

“Well, she has kindly extended her exclusivity to your situation as well.”

Lance’s brows lifted at the words. _Extended- Did that mean-?_

Surly enough, Gor-yex stepped aside and something large and towering shoved Keith forward through the door and he dropped to his knees. They were just _handing him over_. He- he couldn’t believe it! He could just haul Keith out of there without a second thought once they left the room. All they had to do was wait a few vargas and they could skate right to the castle!

“And for your own peace of mind, I assure you there is no need to worry.” Gor-yex offered a small keypad, “You will be able to adjust his levels as you see fit.”

 _And_ the remote to that stupid fucking circlet! Could Lance _get_ any luckier?

“You may use it as you so desire. The only thing I would like to remind you of is the circles are irremovable. You have the capability to deactivate his restraints, but his circlet is not equipped to do so. While you have control, we do keep track of his vitals and monitor his levels - a simple safety precaution, you see.”

No. Not remotely. Such steps forward to busting out only to be held back by one stupid little computer.

“Well, do be sure to find _some_ time to rest.” Gor-yex winked, “I will be calling for you come tomorrow. There should be anything you may need for the evening at the bed table. Enjoy!”

The door shut and left Lance with Keith all to himself. Oddly, he wasn’t sure what to do next. He stood there, silent, staring down at Keith, his form hunched over in exacted submission. It took a second to remember that Keith had been blindfolded. That seemed at least a good place to start. 

Lance knelt before him and was surprised to find how hesitant he was to even reach out for him. Eventually, with a thick swallow, he let his fingers brush against Keith’s cheek. He didn’t flinch this time. He barely even moved. Lance’s brows furrowed. He carefully undid the strap to the gag and set it aside. Not a word. What did he expect? A thank you? Not likely. At least… maybe not yet. He reached for the blind fold and eased it off with care. He waited. Waited for something. Anything.

After a moment of stillness between them Keith shifted, looking up at him through his thick curtain of black hair and Lance saw his eyes. Dark, sunken, tired, and so very angry. Why? Lance felt a shiver down his spine as he looked into the eyes of someone ready to strike - to kill. He thought Keith would at least have been a _little_ happy to see him. 

_Wait!_

“Keith! Keith, it’s me!” Lance raised his hands up in defense before reaching to pull off his wig. He reached to yank the mustache off his lip and immediately regretted it. “O-ow! Shit!”

As he covered his mouth, Keith’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe it. This idiot _was_ Lance! 

“L-Lance?” His voice came out hoarse and ragged. It was odd to feel the way it moved naturally again after so long. “Lan-” He coughed. “Lance what the _fuck_ are you doing here?!” Wherever ‘here’ was.

“Well, it’s a long story.” he said, finally pulling the gloves off his hands. He rubbed the top of his lip delicately with a naked finger. “But, honestly, it was a complete fluke that I ran int- uh… that I-... am… heeere…”

Keith knew he was trying to dance around the elephant in the room. But in perfect honesty, Keith couldn’t have been any happier. That meant everything he had wanted it to mean. There were so many thoughts and questions that wanted to bubble to the surface. Where were they? How did Lance end up there? What was he doing there? Had he really just been the one in the room with him? Why? Was he forced to do it too? If he was, how did he end up in _this_ room - what was he wearing? Who was this Madame that was mentioned? 

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” Keith’s mind stilled at Lance’s panic. “I totally forgot! Man, I’m sorry!” 

Lance jumped to his feet and scrambled for the small keypad. Keith watched as he bit his lower lip poring over the thing, fumbling with a few buttons. Suddenly, he was fixated. He remembered the way that same thin line of lips felt on his skin. The way they felt so much fuller _around_ his skin… 

Lance pressed a button with a small ‘ah-hah’ face when Keith’s arms fell to his sides. The magnetic pull of his circles had released. His ankles no longer felt melded to the mechanical square he knelt upon - the lights there now a rhythmic flash of red instead of the steady teal. The lights on his circles played a similar pattern, save for the circlet that kept it’s teal halo. His shoulders ached as he moved them forward. Everything felt so sore after being held in one position for so long. Two, now, he supposed. 

“Thanks, Lance…” he managed to rasp, rolling a shoulder gently.

“He-hey. Go ahead and take it easy. I’m going to take a few to lose this get-up.”

Keith nodded and Lance headed to wash off the color from his skin. Keith remained on his knees, slowly curling into himself. His fingers raked into his hair and slid to the back of his head. 

_Jesus fuck_ _…_

It was Lance. It was _Lance._ Shit. His body started to remember the way it felt. His fingers clutched his hair as he tried to think of something else. But his body was already begging for more. He could tell he was beginning to flush. After so many times feeling his body cycle through its heated measures, he knew. His body was waking to Lance’s voice. To Lance’s proximity - the simple fact that Lance was just a few feet away. He caught the delicate bite of a cologne that was familiar to him only months ago. He caught that glint of blue he remembered always wanting to see in Lance’s eyes every time they were face to face. Lance was within reach. And his desires were no longer under lock and key.

_No. Please_ _… No._

_Drip._

_Drip - drip._

Lance took a deep breath and exhaled into the towel he used to dry his hair. He needed to get out. He needed to get Keith out. He had to figure out a way to work around every hurdle that presented itself - the shackles, the security, the circlet, the hotel, Gor-yex, _Madam Egraahn_. There was a veritable plethora of things that needed to be worked out as soon as possible. Lance’s reputation - hell, his _competence_ was riding on this whole thing to go off without a hitch. Technically, it had. If he simply walked away with what he came for, the day would be won. He would have had the final proof that he wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t just the ass end of every joke. It would have been evidence that Lance was a fucking contender.

But there was one small hiccup.

And that hiccup turned into a lump in his throat. Then a twist in his stomach. Now a burning in his loins. _Did I seriously just think the word_ _‘loins’?_ For fuck’s sake, he was turned around six ways to Sunday. He could barely think straight let alone come up with an escape plan that wouldn’t get them both utterly vaporized. Any thought of Keith spiraled back into that room and fed the woken desires stemming from that one simple act. He remembered the sounds, the smell, the saturated lighting - but he remembered the heat of it all the most vividly. It was like the room had filled with steam and it had become so thick he could barely breathe. He was starting to feel that way again. His excitement was building up again, but luckily not enough to be evident in a bathrobe. Lance placed both hands on the counter and took a second breath. There was no way he would have any problem ‘performing’ in their next act. His problem laid in fighting off any urge to play it out before then. He would never ask Keith to let him sexually experiment when Keith had been sexually experimented _on_ this whole time. As much as he wanted to, Keith was his teammate, Keith was his friend. Keith wasn’t a sex toy. Lance had to be there to help him work through whatever trauma he had endured.

_Yeah, we_ _’ll do it together. I can be supportive. I can do this._

They could talk through their awkward encounter. It was a forced hand. It was necessary. Tactically speaking, it was the best play they had in order to fight another day.

_Shit. I can_ _’t do this._

It was fine. Maybe they didn’t even have to talk about it at all. He didn’t have to bring it up. Why make things more awkward than they already were? Poor Keith had gone through enough torture, right? He didn’t need a heart-to-heart with Lance. In a sex hotel. Completely naked. On a bed. After just getting off. Because Lance had -

_SHIT! How am I going to do this?!_

Lance grabbed a small hand towel and threw it at his reflection, frustrated at the sight of himself. Frustrated with the fact that the only thing he wanted to do at that moment made him just as much a monster to Keith as the others were. He passed a hand over his face. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. Maybe Keith simply wouldn’t want to talk about it at all and they could just go straight to ‘get the fuck out’. That seemed like the most logical path to this whole scenario. That was pretty ‘ _Keith_ _’_ , right? He pulled his robe closed tighter.

 _I can_ totally _do this._

The room he was given was not grand by any stretch of the word. But it was sufficient for a variety of needs; bathroom with a good-sized shower, what looked to be a king or queen-sized bed, small table and chair set - basic amenities one would find on any planet, apparently. But when he stepped back into the room, he found Keith had made use of none of them. As a matter of fact, the man hadn’t moved at all from where Lance had left him. He was still at the door hunched over. _More_ hunched, actually… Crap. Maybe Keith really _was_ upset. Lance bit his lower lip lightly and reached for the nape of his neck as he tried to figure out what step to take. After a moment he made his way to Keith.

“Listen… Keith..” He tried meekly, eyes drifting to the side sheepishly.

In less than a second, Keith was on his feet and had fistfuls of Lance’s robe. Keith was so fast, Lance was already tripping backwards over his own feet before he knew what had happened. One moment Lance was upright. In the next he found himself pinned to the bed practically swallowing Keith’s tongue.

_So we_ _’re going to skip the talking then._

After a breath to let the dizzy spell fade, it turned out Lance was perfectly alright with it. He felt Keith’s pull on his robe loosen and he dropped to the mattress while Keith yanked at the feeble wrap around his waist. He found no words come forward because he would rather slack his jaw to Keith’s eager entries. He found them desperate and somewhat brutish and he swallowed every one of them. As tangled in the fabrics of his robe as he was, Lance managed to free his arms to grab hold of his assailant, an arm here and a good chunk of hair there. Lance pulled so that he could take in a sharp breath. He heard Keith moan in his ear as he did so, and he melted. Soon, lips filled the shell of his ear and he felt teeth yank at his lobe. Lance couldn’t help but arch into the wide palm that dragged everywhere on his chest. Keith’s hand was rough, and he could feel callouses against his skin. But it was hot and sent shivers through his entire body. He wanted to lose himself in it all. As he opened his mouth to call to him, Lance felt Keith’s weighted hand take hold of him. Already half aroused, it was anticipating a deliberate touch. When it was finally obliged the sound that escaped his lips was nothing close to anything other than the language of carnal pleasures. His fingers tightened into Keith’s hair again, so Keith’s hold acted in kind around him. Lance vocalized once more. His other hand slipped over the visitor’s kneading hold on him encouragingly and his legs parted further to invite more. He turned his head back to Keith and suddenly realized his breath was quick and his pulse was going wild.

“Ke-Keith…” Lance managed to whisper in a haze.

Keith had been spurred by the song of his name drifting off Lance’s lips. He didn’t want to think that everything that happened was all the tendrils of insanity slipping into his consciousness. When he heard Lance return from the other room and call to him, he latched on to what was real. Lance was real. And he wanted all of him. He felt the cool temperature of Lance’s freshly rinsed body against his own burning heat. He could feel the soft brush of his caramel skin against every prickling nerve and he pressed against that solid connection as heavily as he could. As Lance gave way to him, he pushed further. Keith. Wanted. _All_ of him. He would go until Lance forced him off. Lance was right, he was feral. But only because he was desperate for the one person he wanted to clutch. He was helpless to deny himself the one he desired. Keith relished in the way that Lance seemed to undulate to his touch, like the fluid sway of a sordid bolero Lance’s body would so naturally revert to. When Lance called to him again, he felt a wave of goosebumps erupt on his skin and suddenly he was reminded to listen too. He had been so occupied with how Lance felt that sound had left him for a spell - the only thing he could hear was the erratic pounding of his heartbeat against his own eardrums.

He could have answered. He could have warned. He could have _asked_ if Lance was even willing to do this. But Keith had no more time for words. Not anymore. Lance didn’t fight him. The only thing that could have been seen as protest was the yanking of his scalp, but even those - _those_ needed to be explored further the next chance possible. _Next chance_. What if there was no ‘ _next chance_ _’._ Lance admitted this was a fluke. Being there - with him. If this was the universe giving Keith the one thing he dreamed of before he faded to stardust…

Keith pulled away long enough to lift himself to his hands. Lance took the chance for an unweighted, deep, drawing breath. His dizzied mind was still swirling, and Keith watched as he swallowed thick. Keith shifted again and tucked his knees under Lance’s legs before letting his rolling hips settle into a pattern that nestled perfectly between Lance’s thighs. Keith was not kind. It wasn’t a gradual introduction. It was an onslaught of slow, exceedingly intentional, heavy grinds. His body was thirsting for touch, for something solid. The more Keith stole, the more solid Lance became. Lance had to cover his mouth. It was instinctive, for whatever reason. Lance could feel Keith's scorching desire frotting against his own rising inferno. It was like the licking of an open flame on his bare skin and he wanted to cry out. Though, it would have been the furthest thing from pain. Even with cover, Lance could do little to hush the noises Keith flushed out of him. It mingled in the air with Keith’s own sultry breaths and Lance could feel the air beginning to thicken into that familiar atmosphere.

Keith’s eyes flickered around the room a moment as he recalled the mention of ‘needs’. Keith was wrought heavy with desire, but the last thing he would ever do was hurt Lance. He found what he wanted on a plated display on a table at the head of the bed; an ostentatious spread of glittered bottles, tubes, and pots with shapely curves and colors, scents and textures abound. With a sprawling reach, he managed to grab hold of a fist-sized bottle, knocking several of its neighbors over and even some onto the floor. It popped open with a small noise and Keith - rather boldly - turned it over in his hand. It didn’t burn. It didn’t tingle. Satisfied with the spot test, Keith proceeded to slather the purple goop all over Lance’s lower half. Lance gasped and a moan fell, stuttering, from his mouth at the slick coating.

“J-Jesus Christ.” He huffed.

There was enough slathering to marinate in and Keith was still working it around. Every time his hand passed over his shaft, he moaned at not getting release. He felt so ready. All of this was incredibly overwhelming. Lance never had anyone touch him before and Keith was clearly not looking to ease into anything slowly. His hand rubbed over him again and he bucked, grabbing at Keith’s shoulders with a soft grunt. He felt passes down the valley of his cleft becoming more and more frequent and he nearly shuddered. He didn’t really want to think of being the receiving end. The whole time he had Keith in his mouth he was so entirely ready to sink into him fully and feel Keith writhe beneath him. Things didn’t quite play out that way - but so far, Lance hadn’t hated anything yet. Quite the opposite, really. Each lingering pass over his entrance made his brows twitch, but he began to welcome it curiously. Then he felt something just inside and he needed something to grasp. His fingers filed back into Keith’s hair and grasped at the nape of his neck. He heard Keith hiss through his teeth and cracked an eye open just quick enough to watch him dip before feeling his lips pull at his chest. Lance shuddered at the attention to the delicate circle of skin and felt it tingle against the rough caresses of Keith’s tongue.

Lance felt teeth and he winced with a clenched jaw. But he was thankful for the distraction when he realized that there was more than one segment of Keith’s finger inside. Lance dragged in as slow a breath as he could, attempting to relax as he felt the invasion twist and move. Keith bit again and this time Lance noticed the fingers. It was not the most comfortable sensation, but it wasn’t the worst. After several minutes of them shifting and curling inside, Lance was starting to grow accustomed to them. Coupled with Keith’s oral fixation with the other nipple, Lance hardly minded the digits added later. Suddenly, everything ebbed, and Keith was settling for the main event. Was he ready? Would it hurt? How much? Could he stand it? There were so many questions flooding his head he was Lance was starting to feel dizzy. He reached over his head for something, anything to brace with, and his fingers curled into the folds of the bedsheets as Keith penetrated properly.

Keith felt the way Lance’s walls moved around his fingers and he was dying to know those breaths and contractions around his own muscle. He heard hisses and grunting, but nothing that screamed pain and anguish. He knew he was treading a thin line, but he couldn’t help it. Lance was…intoxicating. Keith had become so drunk with Lance’s touch, taste, sound. _If he could get Lance to pull his damn mullet like this all time_ _…_ Keith nearly climaxed simply upon entry. He felt Lance reach for him as he pushed forward and rounded blunt nails clawed across the back of his shoulder. As dulled as they were, they felt like knife tips seeking a weak point in him to puncture against his heightened nerve ends. It stung sharp with the salt of sweat and it doused Keith in a wave of clarity. It proved he was awake. This was palpable. It was a testament to Lance really and truly being more than just a dying wish. Keith froze lest everything that crashed against him all at once swathed him in the sexual release he lusted for. No. He couldn’t. He wanted it to happen together, _with_ Lance - if he would let him.

It wasn’t that bad. It only hurt just a bit. It was a strange _inside_ pang, pulling in all directions, but it was manageable. Whatever the reason for the respite, Lance was happy to take it. He took a moment to get used to the girth inside him. He could feel Keith’s pulse. He could feel the way Keith’s heart caused him to throb inside and Lance kind of liked feeling the erratic pattern that wasn’t his own. He cracked an eye just enough to see Keith watching him intently, with those eyes, that had once carried a frightening amount of anger and hate but were filled with a delicate longing and worry at him, _for_ him. No questions came, but Lance answered anyway with a nod. He was perfectly fine. He pulled Keith in by the back of his head and devoured several kisses, open and full, hungry and reaching. He wasn’t sure how ready he truly was, but he was willing. Easily, he felt the motions begin. Soon, they were quickened. Lance felt it fill his insides then leave him, every re-entry finding that perfect spot like a match against strike paper - each time sparking more and more heat, building that anticipation of finally going alight.

In true reality, it took little time for both to climax. The room filled gradually with their voices as both coalesced in a hushed chorus of moans, sighs and carnally sated grunts. Lance succumbed to sexual release as Keith slowed his own thrusts to stave off his edge. He stroked Lance lightly before applying a more persuasive pressure and Lance erupted. Every fiber around him tightened and Keith was essentially milked by Lance’s own orgasm. The release had never felt so good - and he had lost count of how many he had in recent times. None of them felt as deep and as wholly satisfying as now. Keith collapsed onto his side next to Lance, both of them heaving and exhausted.

Lance rolled to his side, noting the feeling of being void of Keith yet slick still with both of their sexual juices in and on him. His body felt ragged and spent of all energy, but he felt… gratified. It was incredible. He was sure it would be a serious experience, but the way Keith handled him was beyond anything he could have pictured. They stayed that way a while, simply letting their racing hearts and minds settle.

Keith looked over to Lance, his broad back still glistening in a light layer of sweat, his breaths had shallowed. Even though he had just gone through the best experience in his entire life - with the one person he had always wanted to - he felt a bit sick to his stomach over the way it had happened. Even if Lance hadn’t fought being bedded, Keith couldn’t ignore the fact that he still forced him to. He had to say _something_.

“Lance…” This time his throat was hoarse for a different reason.

Lance could still hear the very first sounds spill from Keith’s lips during his solo performance, but Keith exceeded it by leaps and bounds with Lance’s own voice to encourage more. So much more. His chords were scratchy and dried by the sudden overuse.

Lance took a breath to answer, but when it left his lips no voice caught, and it came out silent. He thought to try again, but suddenly he became worried all over again about where conversations might steer and how could he possibly respond?

“H-hey.. Did you fall asleep?” Silence. “…Lance?”

Lance bit his lower lip, trying to play out conversations in his head quick enough to find the best way to answer. Before he could, Keith’s arms wrapped around him and he felt the heat of Keith mold against the curve of his back.

“I’m sorry…” Keith’s voice was a breathy sound just a wingbeat over whisper. “I’m so sorry I did this to you...”

Lance’s eyes opened slightly. _He_ was _sorry?_ Lance couldn’t imagine the kind of shit that he had been suffering through for God-knows-how-long and Keith had the mind to _apologize_ for what just happened? Granted, it wasn’t the most ideal situation. But Lance wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even upset. Hell, if he was to be wholly honest with himself about it, he might even be up for another round once he rested up. Lance had been trying to figure out how to apologize, himself, for the situation as a whole - for things yet to even come. He found the whole situation kind of laughable. Lance was the one free of any chains or bindings and Keith was saying he was sorry. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t even know how shit got so messed up.” Keith continued in his graveled voice, simply thinking out loud at this point, “After everything, it just - I wasn’t sure what my mind could trust anymore. Or if I could even trust _it_. Then I heard your voice and - and I thought, I thought if I just maybe imagined you here, maybe I would be okay. And afterward, you said-”

Keith stopped. Lance fought every fiber in his body urging him to immediately turn around and check on him, console him. Too late now. Keith thought he was deep asleep. Keith drew a slow breath and Lance felt his arms around him tighten. Lance remembered what he had been unable to bite back.

“You don’t know how much I wish I could tell you face-to-face…” Keith buried his face in the nape of Lance’s neck. Lance’s eyes drifted shut again, finding himself enjoying the way Keith felt against him. Swimming in the feeling of simply being held in such an intimate way he had never known before. “You don’t know how completely mental I thought I was becoming just imagining - wanting you here so much that I started to believe it. And there you were, right in front of me.. Lance, I-..”

Lance’s ears almost had to strain to try and discern what Keith said, his voice buried between them. He felt lips brush up against his neck and then tail into his hair. Keith inhaled again, but he held it. Lance never felt it crash against his skin and it caused him to unknowingly hold his own. After a moment, Keith groaned and pulled away entirely. He growled in frustration, hands passing over his face as he laid flat on his back.

“What the hell? Even when he’s passed the fuck out, you can’t say it; ‘ _I_ _’ve always wanted to sleep with you, Lance. I’m in love with you.’_ How hard is that?” Keith scoffed at himself as he turned away on his side. What would that have fixed anyway? It didn’t change what happened. It was better he didn’t know. Keith resigned himself to never speaking of this again - even to himself. He sighed, exasperated, and closed his eyes to sleep. Well enough away from Lance. “Completely pathetic..”

Lance, meanwhile, stayed frozen in his spot. His eyes were open wide, and one hand clutched tightly at the sheets beside him, the other clasped over his mouth. His chest thumped so hard and so fast, he wondered for a split second if Keith could hear it. It was all _he_ could hear. That is, aside from all the racing thoughts jumbling his brain. He thanked every star in the universe that he didn’t answer Keith at the beginning. What would he say to that? What _could_ he say to that? How did he even _feel_ about that? He must have been some kind of twisted because there he was on this seedy fucking planet, in this bullshit hotel, and he dropped to his knees and sucked off his former team leader with hardly a problem. Lance hears a completely sincere _‘I love you’_ from someone he’s come to respect, trust, and - essentially just _slept with -_ and he balks?! _“I’m in love with you.”_ It was like the words were stuck, rolling forever in the concha of his ear and never actually _sinking in_. _“I’m in love with you.”_ Again, and again. He felt his cheeks ache as tears welled in his eyes. It was like a white-hot flash of light in that second. That single moment he was so puzzled over - the moment in that room where Keith broke down into tears. It was clear as crystal.

_Oh, Lance_ _… What have you done?_

_“I’m in love with you.”_

_What are you_ going _to do?_

He had a mind to roll over. He had a mind to slip his own arms around Keith. He had no train of thought, no words that would magically make the haze lift and let sense settle in. But he could at least be something to hold on to. He had the mind to. But the tears slipped, and the motions never came. The longer it took for him to make any attempt, the further away consciousness slipped. The next waking moment he had, he was on his back, mouth open with a drool-moistened corner. He swallowed hard and his throat felt dry and rough. He reached to wipe the spit with the back of his hand and adjusted his head on the pillow. His eyelids fluttered for a moment as he tried to settle back in for the usual ‘few more minutes’. Then they were completely open, bright-eyed and aware.

Lance had forgotten himself for a split second, but it all came crashing back in a single glance. Keith laid next to him, settled in perfectly close in his sleep. His head rested over Lance’s other arm where his own shackle-clad arm draped heavy across Lance’s middle. All four legs were nothing but a tangled, comfortable mess. The paladin took a moment to think, consider, and assess his situation. After a calming breath he relaxed enough to get an honest look at his bedmate. Keith looked so… Shit, even now he still looked so damn tired. He could see the way his eyes darted back and forth behind the sunken lids and he wondered if this was the first time in a while that Keith actually got any real rest. Lance placed his free hand on the arm over his stomach gently. _No more,_ he thought. _Not anymore._ As if almost though it was a response to his silent comforting, Keith breathed in softly only to let it out with a small nudge of his head further into the pillow and Lance’s arm. Lance couldn’t stop the show of a small smile. _“I’m in love with you.”_ His entire nervous system suddenly began to prickle and the hair on his arms stood. His teeth clenched and he held his breath as he carefully, so excruciatingly slowly, ease himself out of bed making every attempt not to wake Keith. The man hardly even stirred. As light a sleeper as Keith was known to be, this had to be bad. Lance grimaced at the thought, pulling covers over Keith’s still very naked body. Lance pretended not to feel flush as he made for the bathroom.

He showered. He showered and did everything in his own power to not dwell on _thoughts._ Even as he washed away reminders in and of himself the evening before, he pushed it all from his mind. _Leave it be_. He cleansed quickly, systematically, blankly. Hurriedly. He tried best he could to ignore the ache in muscles that he had never felt before in such force, ignore the awkward feeling of emptiness. Ignore the want to do it all over again. Lance caught himself in the middle of the thought and shook it out of his head. He finished his rinse and moved on with his routine. He blotted every bit of skin he knew would show through his layers of clothes with the pigment from his compact. Once his hair dried, he slid the wig back into place and delicately placed the pièce de résistance on his upper lip. Once he dressed, he stood at the door and took a deep, calming breath.

Keith was already awake when he exited. He had sat at the edge of ‘his side’ of the bed, partially covered by the blankets, still groggily slouched over. Lance figured he had woken only just, seeing as how he passed a sluggish hand over his tired face. It just happened to halt over his mouth as his eyes peeked over his fingers and in Lance’s direction. Keith took a good look over Lance, getting an honest once-over of his costume. His hand dropped and revealed what Lance caught as the slightest smile before he rolled his deeply violet eyes.

“What?” Lance asked, pulling the lapels of his coat straight, “What’s with the face?”

“You look completely ridiculous. You know that. You have to.”

“Pardon me, _sir_.” Lance rebuked, his Lancey-ness coming out to play, “But this, here, is something of a work of art.”

Keith had to stifle a snort, “It’s definitely _something._ _‘Art’_ probably ain’t it.”

“Hey, need I remind you that you completely bought it not too long ago. In this get-up, I’m invisible.”

Keith smirked proper and Lance felt a bit more at ease. It was nice to see that soft look on Keith’s features - all things considered. It was a short-lived moment as a new one of awkward silence suddenly began to fill the space between them.

“Lance…” Keith finally said, his brows knitted tightly as he tried to bolster himself to just come out and say it. He stood, harboring little care in noticing his lack of clothing still, and made his way to the paladin, “About last night-”

Lance had unconsciously taken a step back as Keith approached, his heart starting to race. “Y-yeah?”

“Look I wanted to-”

Keith’s words were rather violently cut off as his right arm suddenly jerked backward. Keith caught the movement enough to resist the sudden pull and both noticed that the blinking red light had vanished, and the haunting glow of teal took its place. Keith’s entire body tense as he tried to resist, but just when he felt he might be able to hold his ground, his left arm began to pull. It turned him around enough to lose his footing and he was, again, magnetically locked to the metal panel in front of Lance’s door. The moment his wrists were in place, Keith could feel the circles around his ankles reengage as well. He was trapped.

Lance rushed to his side. There was supposed to be time! They were supposed to have time! This was supposed to be the chance for them to figure out how to bust free from this shit hole and maybe even figure out a little bit of themselves on the way. There was supposed to be a breathing moment. How much of it did he waste? He couldn’t have messed up this bad, could he? Lance slide to his knees beside Keith, reaching for his shoulder.

“Keith!”

When Keith looked over to him, Lance swore that he felt his heart rip from his chest and drop into his stomach. He had never seen such a look of desperation on Keith’s face. There was an expression completely devoid of anything hopeful and promises of better. The depth of helplessness in Keith’s eyes completely destroyed Lance. Without a thought, he reached to cup his cheek in his hand.

“Hey. Hey-hey..” Lance spoke quickly, but softly, “It’s me, okay? Just remember it’s _me_.” Lance pressed his forehead to rest against that cursed piece of technology attached to Keith’s, “We’re getting out of here, Keith. I swear to you. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Lance…”

He was going to kiss him. He felt the rising compulsion to do so. Even if it wasn’t anything to soothe Keith’s rising apprehensions, for some reason, kissing him just seemed like the next right thing to do. Before he could even lean in, however, the door opened, and Lance bolted to his feet.

“Greetings, Mr. Tailor!” Gor-yex’s sing-song voice made Lance want to deck him right in the jaw.

“So, _this_ was an unusual wake-up call.” Lance motioned to Keith on the floor, his head bowed and shoulders drooping.

“Ah yes,” his host peaked his fingers with a small breath, “I must be honest, I was quite surprised at the early summons myself. I do apologize. However, Madame Egraahn is overwhelmingly eager to see you and this stag perform as soon as available.”

“Seems the decision of availability was already made for me.” The bite of irritation didn’t escape his response.

“Well, we shouldn’t keep the darling lady waiting. No?”

With a flick of his arm, Gor-yex produced a metal rod and with a press of a button, had Keith on his feet and already on his way down the hall to the elevator. The alien musher waived off with a receding ‘ _at your leisure, of course_ _’. God damn it!_ Lance didn’t even get the chance to talk Keith through what was supposed to happen next. Really, it wasn’t even supposed to get that far. Everything was so messed up! Lance wanted to beat that smug little germophobe into a bloody pulp. Unfortunately, he had to settle for the next best thing and his gloved fist slammed into the side of the wall. Lance’s posture slumped and the sunlight strands drifted around his face. He took a long, dragging breath and slowly let it out. After a moment, he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves and headed down the same path that Gor-yex and Keith had just followed.

Lance made his way to the same booth he had met Egraahn the day before and found a different feather plumed hat, but the same pretentious ego filling it in completely. He stepped up to the edge of her couch and bowed deeply. She noticed his approach and offered her hand, the other fanning her face delicately with a darkly lace fan.

“Bit of an early craving this morning, Madame.” Lance gave as greeting, taking her hand but not bringing it near his lips.

“Oh, I admit it.” She swatted the fan in his direction, “I’m excited to truly see this one bend, I’m afraid. With your touch, I imagine it will be most satisfying.” She stopped, her eyes focusing on nothingness beyond Lance. She had a thought. An epiphany. She looked back over to Mr. Tailor. “Have I… _interrupted_?”

Lance’s face nearly twitched. _In more ways than you can ever imagine_ _…_ “We had been in the middle of something - But a deal is a deal.”

The movement of a large body that more than filled the door it stepped through did quite a bit to squash any thoughts other than further compliance. Had he the full confidence in the situation - and his own ability - Lance would have pulled his bayard and had this place burning in two ticks flat. Any action on the floor, though, would never get him any closer to Keith or back to the castle. He had figured his only chance to make any moves were in the room. He had to get Keith back to the room. No bystanders, no servants, no bouncers - he guessed, he wasn’t quite sure what they were exactly. Fewer variables in the privacy of a hotel room.

“Well, you certainly know how to conduct proper business.” She praised with a small shift in her seat. “You’re sweet to put a dear lady-in-waiting before your _needs._ But by the end of it, I’m sure we’ll both be satisfied, no?”

Lance gave her a curt little smirk and saw the lumbering thing at the door motion for him to follow. He took his leave of the lady and moved to do so. This time, he consciously didn’t bother to memorize the keystrokes or the hallway directions. He could feel his palms start to sweat in his gloves at the anticipation of meeting Keith in that damned room again. He was already feeling warm under his low, open collar. Lance stepped through the door once he was allowed and was met with the familiar magenta silhouette.

This time, Keith was seated, leaned back in a chair - of a sort - with his arms raised over his head. He was blindfolded and gagged again. It seemed they liked to limit as many senses as they could to appropriate submission. Lance stepped his way around, taking note of the small “tool kit” left available for any needs, and found the stirrups that cradled Keith’s strong legs open, leaving him all for Lance’s taking. His jaw clenched at how still and quiet Keith was, like any of the fight he had was simply gone. _I got you, buddy_ _…_ The thought played across his mind with a small smile on his lips and he reached to hold Keith’s cheek, though it was probably more of a comfort for himself than for him. Keith reacted with a subtle turn away from the touch, but Lance understood his motivation. Lance moved to stand before his display and dragged his hands lightly along the outside of Keith’s muscled thighs and over his hips, leaving one to rest at his waist as the other tread upward further. Keith’s angle was nearly a perfect forty-five lean back, the ‘s’ of the ‘seat’ he had in forced his chest open and outward. Lance’s hand followed the way Keith’s body was suggested to curve with ease and Lance watched intently at the way his ribs expanded with the breathy response to the touch. His lithe fingers slid over his erect nubs of flesh and Keith jerked, his chest jumping at the mild stimulation.

Lance turned to look at the glass wall with a frown. The lights outside ramped up just enough for him to make out the Madame through his own reflection. He pointed to his own forehead, wordlessly questioning her use of the circlet. He watched her shrug, glass in hand, and, with a sheepish smile, sign ‘just a little bit’ with her forefinger and thumb. That figured. At least, it might have given him an edge to speed this whole thing up with Keith already somewhat primed. Turning to ask the question also allowed Lance’s other hand - still at rest on Keith’s waist - to trace letters on the side of his leg with no chance of being spotted.

L.

N.

C.

As he turned his attention back, he watched Keith closely and caught the most subtle nod. He watched Keith let out a quiet breath and he could feel just a sliver of tension dissipate from his body. _That_ _’s my guy._ Lance stopped on the thought. _My guy?_ Right now? Yes - yes, he was. In that moment, Lance owned Keith. His sense of touch. His sense of sound. His every breath belonged to Lance. _I_ _’m in love with you_. His heart belonged to Lance. He swallowed thickly with the thought and his hands ran up Keith’s bare sides. His touch was slow and delicately light. Thanks to the help from his circlet, he was already sensitive to touches and Keith shifted restlessly under Lance’s hands. Lance’s thumbs flicked idly back and forth over his nipples and he heard a clipped moan from behind the bar gag in Keith’s mouth. Lance smirked slightly to himself, pleased with the response.

The night before, their balance of power was clearly scaled in Keith’s favor. Lance learned that he was willing to acquiesce to Keith’s whims. Well, by the end, he found himself welcoming it. But now the grains were in his hand. As steeped in rivalry as he had pretended to be, Lance realized in his present moment that he could only give Keith every drop of tenderness he had. Besides, it was all the more satisfying to see Keith squirm under his demure touch than to force it out of him - that was a kind of overpowering in its own right that Lance was learning to like. Lance kept half of his attention to Keith’s chest, his thumb and forefinger now rolling and twisting the delicate skin. The other half of his intentions slipped between Keith’s legs and found the member there clearly waking. Lance only provided a breath of friction. His fingertips almost ghosting against the thirst there. Lance’s grasps were gratifyingly firm, however, and Keith was fully excited with little time and effort.

With a little bit of work, Lance managed to get a layer of latex over his silken glove. It was necessary to keep the layer, lest his audience realize the unusually mismatched skin tone. But he figured the move would further play to his character’s showy attempt at being above contact of a poorer station outside of a good fuck, so it was fine. With a threatening snap of the latex, Lance was eager to begin applying lubricant and prepping Keith. As he did, he wondered if Keith could feel the same things he felt the night before - if it was just as odd and novel a sensation as Lance had found it to be. Keith shifted and groaned and, honestly, Lance wasn’t quite sure how much was him and how much was the overwhelming firing of synapses because of electro-Viagra. It wasn’t taking much to get Keith hot and bothered though, that was clear enough. Lance’s slick palm glided over Keith’s member and he watched as Keith’s head lolled back and to the side with a dragging moan. He wanted the room to fill with Keith’s voice. Lance felt like he could never tire of hearing it. He wanted so much more to spill from him and echo off the walls.

Lance unzipped and pressed against Keith with a burning eagerness. His hands hooked lightly around Keith’s waist as he gently shifted his hips against Keith’s own. He was slick and hot, and Lance relished the way it felt against his own appendage. He felt Keith tense a bit with a slow inhale, but he relaxed again as the breath fell away. With a calculated roll, Lance eased in. Keith was tight, even after the preparation. As he moved, Keith shifted and writhed against all his restraints, his low groans muffled against his gag. He was hot too. Burning. Lance stilled, allowing them both the moment to adjust, and he could feel Keith’s pulse around him. It was strange to feel it that way after knowing his heartbeat inside him. He could feel it racing, going wildly quick. It made his own blood rush just a little more and he was eager to move.

Madame Egraahn wanted to see him bend, she said. Lance was pretty damned confident he could make that happen. With a glance, he tapped his forehead and pointed up. So, he was taking a bit of a handicap - she started it. Lance wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

How could he feel this good? Lance felt a shiver threated to slide down his back as he felt the walls around him shift and contract. He shifted his hips as his hands slid to take hold of Keith’s hips. He was burning from their mixing desire and he wanted to bury himself in it - over and over again, he relished it. With each motion, he felt Keith squirm, shift, and writhe - in his shackles, in his stirrups, in his hands. Each of his breaths was audible, even with the obstruction in his mouth. Every moan and heated grunt were perfectly clear. Lance’s body fell into a natural, steady rhythm and his whole being started to tingle with an internal satisfaction that he never wanted to stop. Soon enough, the pit of his stomach began to twinge, and he felt the rise of his peak beginning to culminate from the stimulation. He listened and heard Keith’s voice become desperate, eager, expectant.

_Sorry, man. Not yet._

Lance’s fingers circled Keith just below his lurid head and shut him down, staving off his satisfaction. Lance’s however, was still very much on its way and he made no effort to slow down. His thrusts kept pushing Keith against the wall of sexual denial and, with the technical assist, it was driving him crazy. His voice was desperate, then. It filled the air with begging whines and Lance only wanted to hear them more. Keith, the powerful, the warrior, the leader, the _stoic, now_ reduced to trembling, pleading sexual submission at Lance’s touch. Lance’s eyes roamed and ate every bit of Keith as he writhed and he wondered in that moment if that was what he had wanted - to break Keith down from his high horse all this time and reduce him to something less. Was he getting off on the fact that the Keith he knew was subject to Lance’s power? Was it simply having the control? No. Lance took in a sharp breath and found himself. He didn’t want this; he didn’t want to _break_ Keith… He didn’t want to _control him_.

Lance let go and Keith released, white and hot, with every visibly tensed muscle clearly melting into carnal relief. His breathing had toned down to blissed moans and thankful sighs.

He wanted to kiss him. Lance wanted to hold him close. He wanted to feel Keith’s hands on him and taste the love on his lips. That was far too distant. He felt leagues away from Keith with his hands only hooked to his waist. It felt cold, despite the sweat and flooding blood vessels. It felt wrong.

Lance receded, leaving Keith unfilled and himself unsatisfied. With a slow, mind-clearing breath, he dressed himself and removed his latex glove. He stepped back and turned to the glass wall. Madame Egraahn’s eyes locked pointedly with his, her fan idly swaying back and forth. He reached to wipe a bead of sweat and slick his brow with a haughty lift of his chin before pulling the edge of his dress coat straight and exiting the room. They were done there. It was beyond time to get off that God forsaken planet.

“I hope that was worth the anticipation, Madame.” Lance strained to keep his persona disconnected by the rage that sickened his stomach.

“As a creature with little sexual stimulation, I have to say it’s quite a feat you’ve managed in getting my own pulse to quicken.” She grinned at him from beneath her wide-brimmed hat. “You’re beyond all my expectations, I grant you, Mr. Tailor.” She reached for him.

“I appreciate the compliment.” Lance accepted, along with her hand. Though, he simply bowed.

“Simply exquisite.” Her eyes fell on Keith.

He was removed from his chair as Lance was led out of the room and placed in a familiar position on his knees before the glass. Paraded. Displayed. Lance felt sick to look at him and averted his eyes.

“I would imagine this one will be quite popular. The allure of rarity alone is enough to garner attention.” Gor-yex voiced from the other side of Egraahn.

“I want to buy more time.” Lance’s hands were clenched into tight fists inside his coat pockets.

“Mr. Tailor, I do appreciate your enthusiasm.” Gor-yex grinned politely, “But we must share with other patrons, don’t you think?”

“Surely, they can live without him for a few more hours, Gor-yex,” the lady rebuked, “I am more than satisfied with our arrangements. But I also feel quite guilty for cutting into Mr. Tailor’s personal time so early in the morning. He’s been nothing but obliging, wouldn’t you say?”

She smiled sweetly at their host and he balked a moment.

“He has offered payment.” Gor-yex signaled to the brutish wall of muscle behind Keith and both were soon removed from the room. “The room will be prepared for your afternoon once again.”

“Dear Tailor,” she lifted her glass in Lance’s direction, “Your performance was most gratifying. Your intrepid sexual vigor is quite refreshing.”

Lance questioned the glint he caught in her eye and suddenly feared for his own freedom. He his nerves pricked and the hair on his arm began to stand at the prospect of being another ‘specimen’ in their little zoo. He forced a smile and offered an empty regard before excusing himself.

“Gor-yex, if you wouldn’t mind walking with me,” Lance turned to leave, but waited for the slithery little thing to accompany him, “I had a few questions regarding the remote you left with me.”

“Of course, Mr. Tailor…”

-

“It seems to stick sometimes, or maybe I’m pushing the button too hard or- “ Lance sighed, feigning exasperation, “And then I don’t know which of them is I’m not supposed to press so I’m afraid to press most of them, really, and it made things slightly awkward - let me tell you.”

“Ah yes, well - “Gor-yex cleared his throat and Lance could tell that he was starting to try his patience. He hadn’t shut up the entire way to the room, making up random issues here and there about the room, coming up with odd items he found weren’t made available, and odd instances of the restraining hardware not working properly. Anything he could make up, anything that came to mind.

They reached the room and Gor-yex allowed Lance to enter. He noted Keith, the poor soul, knelt on the same security plate as the first time, and the fact that the giant beast of a thing that lead him out of the room wasn’t present in his. That would make this all the much easier. The door shut behind Gor-yex.

“So -” he patted his pockets in his jacket and his pants searchingly, “Ah - I don’t know where it is right now. Show me with yours! How are you supposed to switch the connections between the circles?”

Gor-yex was hesitant at first to produce his master remote, but he had been bombarded enough with all the questions and complaints, the quicker he could placate Lance the sooner he could be on his way. The thought of how much he was pushed around grazed over his frontal lobe for a moment before he pulled the remote from his pocket.

“There is an adjustment on your version that looks like this.” He displayed. “This will cycle through all four circles.”

“I thought that was the one I wasn’t supposed to push.” Lance leaned in to get a clear look. “Y’know, so I don’t shut down his whole thing.”

“No sir,” Gor-yex clarified with a slight sigh, “Your version is fully functional. _This key_ here does that, and guest keys are not equipped with-”

Lance sneezed.

Lance sneezed all over Gor-yex.

For a moment, the lithe little thing froze in a state of shock.

“Sorry about that.” Lance sniffed, “I meant to mention that too, actually -”

Lance was cut off by Gor-yex suddenly letting out a pathetic cry as he searched his pockets with his free hand for something to cleanse the contaminants from his epidermal layers.

“H-here! Here, let me help!” Lance reached for the remote in the other hand and handed Gor-yex a tissue in one smooth motion. “I’m really so sorry about that. I wasn’t even thinking. The sneeze just kind of snuck up on me, man. You know how they are.”

As Gor-yex frantically wiped and Lance spewed half-assed platitudes, he hit the button Gor-yex had indicated.

Keith was free.

The moment Keith felt his restraints let go, he was on his feet. He ripped the blindfold off and the gag immediately after. He saw Lance in that ridiculous getup pretending to fuss over some small green creature as it panicked. There was no falter in his movements and the final thing Keith tore from his head was the circlet. With a lung forward, he dropped it onto Gor-yex’s crown. Lance pressed the button again and the circlet re-engaged, affixing itself to the small host. Soon the room was filled with Gor-yex’s screams as electricity shot through him long enough to render him unconscious. Gor-yex dropped to the floor with a groan and both Lance and Keith stood there for a moment, quiet panting easing their rushing adrenaline.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Lance finally muttered.

Keith broke out in a quiet laugh before pulling on a robe from the bathroom.

“It’s a straight shot out of here from the elevator.” Lance tossed the remote on the pile of crumpled Gor-yex. “Let’s get the fuck out of this place, Keith.”

The relief that washed over Keith was nearly physical as Lance said those last words. The freedom just beyond the front doors of this place was nearly palpable to him and he was beyond words to describe how ready he was to never see, smell, or hear this fucking hell for another second. Keith nodded with a deep breath. His internal celebration would have to wait until he actually stepped foot on a ship that cut through the atmosphere. There was still ground to cover. No sooner had he quelled his excitement had Lance opened the door. Keith’s stomach dropped quicker than he managed to react. He grabbed the back of Lance’s coat and yanked just in time to feel thick wide fingers circle his throat and lift his feet off the floor.

“Well, well.” The voice was dark, graveled, and thick, “Looks like you’ve still got a bit of spunk in you - even now.”

The Galran gave a toothy grin. It widened even with Keith clutching at his wrist and arm, kicking and fighting with the fumes he had left in him. There was a small fire in him after he spoke too. He remembered that voice. He remembered that low laugh ringing in his ears just before all of this bullshit started. This Galran piece of shit was one of the biggest reasons he was in this mess! Keith growled and flailed to little success. Lance, however, finally managed himself upright and started to charge the door before they all heard a voice.

“I believe that will be enough of this. Thon, release him.”

The Galran did so, rather unkindly. Keith’s legs crumpled beneath him and he fell flat on his back with a hard ‘oof’. Lance rushed to his side and helped him sit up, shifting so that he stood mostly between Keith and everyone else at the door. He was more than ready to rush at them again the next moment he got. As the Galran stepped into the room to clear the way, however, he was surprised to find Madame Egraahn.

“I must admit, Mr. Tailor, that you truly never cease to surprise me.”

“What can I say? I’ve always been all about the ‘razzle-dazzle.’”

As light as the banter may have seemed, Lance’s delivery was nothing short of menacing. He was ready to throw all his cards onto the table and bite his way out if he had to - biting was absolutely not beyond his repertoire of tactics. The Galran was twice Keith’s size, and subsequently his own, but every ounce of his being was dying to get off Sagev 547 and Keith would be right next to him on that ship.

“So it seems.” Lance caught the Madame’s eyes shift over to Gor-yex as he started to stir. “This is certainly quite the development. Have a seat, gentlemen, won’t you?”

She made her way over to a chair. Thon followed close behind and pulled it out for her, keeping his place near her side. She waited, poised gracefully in what could be the visage of a perfect lady. Lance considered his options. Gor-yex was no longer out, so he was sure that every security detail in the place would be at his beck and call if he so chose to make it. They wouldn’t make it two steps from the elevator without being ambushed by who-knows-how-many of those giant lumbering oafs. And they weren’t dead _yet_ … He sighed and reached to help Keith to his feet.

“Lance…?” Keith’s whisper was incredulous. How could they humor this insanity?

“Stay close to me.” Lance took Keith’s hand in his own to make sure he did.

He moved to the bed and sat at its edge. But only just so. Every fiber in him was wound tightly and ready to spring into whatever action it be - fight or flight. He was nervous and his tight fingers around Keith’s hand made it more than evident. He was thankful that Keith squeezed back just as solidly.

“Madame Egraahn, you don’t have to involve yourself in this anymore.” Lance’s eyes locked steadily with hers, only shifting once to the Galran. “I’m leaving with him, so please just let us go.”

She laughed rather throatily.

“Mis-Ter Tai-Lor.” Each syllable was sharply pronounced with a thick lacing of amusement, “I don’t think you quite comprehend the depth of my intertwining in this predicament of yours.”

“My issues lie with Gor-yex. Your ‘lease’ on this one is up if I recall right. So, leave us be.”

“While you are technically correct, I’m afraid to say that I own him outright.”

“But Gor-yex is-”

“Little more than concierge to the operation here.” She had raised her hand as she interjected, physically cutting off Lance’s words, “His business lies within the hospitality above ground and only there, I assure you. He is welcome to extend his propriety to the office at the end of the hall for other, less reputable business endeavors. He is a simple _butler_ in my _mansion,_ you see."

“But -” Lance was at a loss for words. “In the beginning you said you -”

"The 'lease' - as you say - was simply standard vetting. I always check the quality of my wares, Mr. Tailor. I am _The Madame_ , after all." She tapped her fan lightly on the side of her face with a challenging look in her eyes. _Dare to disbelieve_ , it practically screamed. “I mentioned before that I am a creature of the simplest mode of procreation, but I harbor much curiosity in whom, what, how, and - quite often - why. I’ve come to build a rather large collection after finding there’s a market for such musings. While it hasn’t brought back my decimated planet, I make an audacious living.”

“… Decimated?” Lance caught on.

“Mnh.” Egraahn opened her fan and idly swayed it. “While I began to make a living here on Sagev 547, I did love my home planet… Lieutenant Thon was the very bastard that carried out the order. Weren’t you, dear?”

“Yes, Madame.” He answered flatly. Empty of remorse or any regard at all to the mention of his actions.

“You want to take it out on the Galra…” Lance shifted just an iota closer to Keith, “That’s why you wanted to treat him so poorly - because they found he was half Galra. He doesn’t have a circlet and he’s’ the one that destroyed your planet.”

“Oh, I promise you, Mr. Tailor. Thon gets his just deserts on a rather regular basis.”

Keith notice Galran eyes shift subdued to the floor.

“As for his circlet - well…” Egraahn lifted her fan to turn Thon’s head to one side. Both Lance and Keith saw what looked like a small blinking teal button affixed to Thon’s temple, “He gets a permanent little accessory. No amount of negotiating or bartering will release this one from my clutches I’m afraid.” She laughed playfully at the notion of being the evil witch that would not dare let go of the ill-fated hero.

All eyes dropped to Gor-yex as he groaned fully, lifting himself off the floor to his hands and knees.

“Gor-yex,” He groaned again and Egraahn rolled her eyes, “Hurry yourself to your feet, Gor-yex. You have a lot of work to catch up on now, I can’t have you laid on the floor like a Plaxuvian Sloth rug.”

“Ye-yes, Madame.” Gor-yex stood, dusting himself off.

“Hand me the key and have his things brought up to Mr. Tailor’s room immediately.”

“At once, Madame.” The slithery little host bowed deeply as he handed her the fob and hurried out of the room. He had not once glanced over at the two at the bed nor spared them a word.

“I -” Keith’s brows knitted tightly, “I don’t understand.”

“Yeah. Why haven’t you ordered Thon to pummel us or something yet?”

She laughed again, this time a little demurer.

“I hate to admit it, Mr. Tailor,” she sighed lightly, “But I’m afraid I’ve grown quite fond of you. Your brazen personality has left me rather abashed to the risks you seem willing to take. I have vetted many varieties of species into my little circus, boys. I have seen the banality that carnal desires can bring out in things if left to run rampant. But, I have never seen such grace and wholesome interaction. Even an asexual sort as myself is in need of a breath of air afterward.”

Both boys could feel their ears warm slightly at her description of their sexual encounters with one another.

“You seem more than keen to leave this place with him.”

“I’m ready to risk life and limb, Madame Egraahn.” Lance stood from his seat to prove his intent to fight it out, “I’m begging you to just let us go.”

There was a knock at the door and one of the muscled attendants held out Keith’s Marmora trappings and his blade. Keith’s eyes lit for a moment at his belongings. But he made no motion. Egraahn pressed a button on the key fob that Gor-yex had given her and opened a hand to him. Keith’s shackles fell, useless and heavy, to the floor. He hurried to take his things, shutting himself in the bathroom to properly dress.

“I wish…” Lance spoke lowly, “I wish I could understand why you’re doing this. Everything you’ve said only tells me that none of this is sensible to you.”

Egraahn sat quiet a moment, eying Lance closely.

“Of all the coitus I’ve witnessed, across all the species I’ve encountered,” her eyes narrowed, “the moments between you and that male stand above them all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even someone like me can believe in _Love_ , don’t you think?”

There was a sudden pain in Lance’s chest. It was as though she had just shoved a knife right into his ribcage. He found it hard to swallow and then extremely difficult to breathe. He could hear the beating of his heart in his ears and it was racing.

“I’ve lost my home, my family, and much else that I held dear.” She finally said, her voice carried a lilting sadness to it, “Even within the Chaos Theory there is an underlying constant that blooms throughout the boundless universe. Surely, you don’t believe I’ve lost sight of what nearly every species in existence is drawn to one another with, do you? As a being that lacks any reliance on physical intimacy to proliferate, I've held that such emotional attachments are compounded in sincerity, depth, and honesty. You don’t find a thing like that in places like these, Mr. Tailor. I would hate to allow myself to be an implement to destroy such a thing of rarity.”

“You…” Lance had to force a swallow around the lump still lodged in his throat, “You could see that in… when we were in…”

The Madame smiled darkly.

“It’s sometimes easy to forget how much our emotions play out on our own faces.” Lance caught a small flash of her teeth, “Your eyes, in particular, are very expressive.”

He immediately dropped his gaze to the floor as he started to chew his bottom lip. Keith stepped out of the door, looking the way Lance had remembered him before the start of all this insane matter of circumstance.

“Can we please leave?” Keith asked. His body language was so closed and tight, it was as though Keith folding his arms so tight would stop his clothes from coming off ever again. Lance was keen to note the tight grip on the handle of his blade in his hand as well.

It was evident that the Madame was amused at the display and stood from her seat, stepping aside to let Keith pass to the door. Lance moved to do the same and Egraahn stepped up to meet him.

“I don’t ask to part as friends, nor am I inclined to offer any apology for all that has passed. But I do hope that if you ever find yourself in a dark place, Mr. Tailor, and in any need -” she offered him a business card, “I would hope that you think of me as someone you can call.”

Lance wasn’t quite sure what to make of this final interaction. If she was soliciting him to come back and partake of any more ‘wares’ she was barking up the wrong tree. For the sake of civility in letting them walk out without issue, he slipped it into the pocket inside his coat. Without a word more between them, he stepped out of the room.

Before the door shut behind him he heard her call, “My regards to the rest of the Coalition.”

It was like she had just landed another shot to his chest. Lance winced, wondering what kind of repercussions could stem from the realization. He took a deep breath and turned on the ball of his foot to make for the elevator and out of this fucking shit hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Satisfying end, no?  
> Haha. Don't worry. I lied earlier.  
> I had thought this would be a one-shot at the beginning and I lied then, why stop now?? There will be what could be considered an epilogue, I suppose. OR simply just the final piece. Either way, if you're feeling rather unsatiated with the way things ended up between our boys, don't worry. There's a smidge more to it coming up. 
> 
> It won't take as long as this "quick" second half had taken. I managed to get stuck pretty good in a couple of places in this one. So, I apologize for that!


	3. Encore

The wave of concern and onslaught of questioning was, suffice it to say, duly expected. Once Lance entered the room with Keith on his heels there was curious surprise. When they found out that he had been on Sagev 547, the concerned interrogations began. Considering that the last they heard from Keith was more than several quintats ago and he was a good handful of light years away, there was immediate disquiet; most of all from Shiro. Keith made it a point to explain that the last Blade of Marmora mission he had been on had been sabotaged and the next thing he knew he was whisked away somewhere. He mentioned the dark cell, the lack of food and any social contact outside of being some kind of guinea pig for specimen research - though, what specific experiments they did he neglected to bring to light. It was mentioned that what part of him wasn’t Galra was rather novel and they had taken a slight interest, so he allowed them to form their own ideas.

To the question of how Lance came about him, the term he offered was ‘slave-labor’. Keith made no effort to adjust any of Lance’s information. Much of what he told them was not far from the truth. The details were simply _smudged_ a little, contorted in a way that didn’t necessarily bring the reality to the forefront. Perhaps, yes, Lance should have mentioned that he ran into Keith - he admitted it - but the circumstances were dire enough and his own position precarious, he felt that it was simply the best choice to omit at the time. Besides, what good would it have done to just cause everyone to worry?

“Well, we’re glad that you’re okay, Keith.” Shiro sighed, finding consolation in the fact that the ordeal was over, and they were both present and seemingly unharmed.

“And-” Pidge added, popping the coveted disk into the castle console, “We’ve got what we need to fix the ship!”

“Way to pull through, buddy!” Hunk’s cheery fist pump brought a chuckle out from Lance’s chest.

“Of course, he did.” Keith’s hand dropped to rest on his shoulder, “There never should have been a doubt.”

“Well done, Lance.” Allura praised in her delicate voice and Lance’s cheeks pinked slightly, “Now we can get ourselves back on track once the ship is functioning properly again.”

“Come Keith,” Coran motioned for him to follow, “Let’s get a healing pod set up for you.”

Lance watched as Shiro followed behind the two of them and it finally seemed to sink in - the heavy reality of it all. There was a distant echo in his mind of a familiar voice speaking something about the Chaos Theory or something scientific he wasn’t really listening to. He moved to take a seat, take a load off his feet and rest. His chest had felt oddly tight for a moment.

-

“Is… Is he okay?” Lance could read the obvious hesitation in Matt’s voice. He knew he wanted to ask but wasn’t sure if it was something that he could even mention.

“He seems to be holding up alright. Look-“ Lance inhaled, “You’re the only one that _knows.”_ The emphasis was more than enough to elucidate what Lance implied, “So… I mean, if you could…”

“Don’t worry. No one is going to hear anything about it from me.”

“Thanks, Matt.” Lance passed a hand over his face with a sigh as he leaned forward on the edge of his bed, resting his elbow on his knee. “What about the intel?”

“Pagmae Egraahn is Magthonian - one of the few that are left. There’s only a recorded eight hundred thousand registered throughout the universe. Apparently, her family was politically active, but she had no intention of pursuing such a career. Her planet was drained of all its Quintessence and imploded on orders from the Empire. There are rumors mentioned that she’s out for Galra blood because of it, but the here-say was too few and far between that no one noted to follow up. I’m really not surprised nothing has come up under Egraahn before. She’s got to be pretty good at covering up her tracks.” Matt’s transmission showed him hacking away at a keyboard as the screen to the side of him scrolled data.

“That, or Gor-yex is the perfect scapegoat.” Lance mused, “He definitely makes it a point to appear like he’s the one running the game, but I think that’s just all part of her plan. He’s definitely savvy in a lot of things subterfuge and illegal… But he really only a pawn in the Madame’s meat market.”

“I can see that. He’s still kind of a sleezeball, though.” Matt shuddered.

“I don’t disagree with that in the slightest. If he wasn’t such a neat freak, I’m sure he would be dripping with slime.” Lance grimaced, “The shit that they pull, man…”

“I know. Unfortunately, I’ve been there once. And, there haven’t been many _escapes,_ but I heard one of the rebels with some scratch threw _a lot_ of credits to buy his girlfriend out and the things she described. I never realized that a place so extremely _clean_ can still be so utterly disgusting.”

Matt looked like he was going to be ill. Suddenly, there was a blinking notification on his screen and his attention was shifted. Lance watched idly as Matt’s eyes narrowed a moment before suddenly going wide. “Whoa…”

“What is it?”

“The Rebellion just received a huge monetary transfer of two million GAC.”

“Wow. That’s going to buy a lot of refugee supplies.”

“Lance, it’s from a Mr. Tailor…” Lance’s face paled slightly, “on Sagev 547. There’s a message: _The House rarely loses a gamble, but the risks are worth the payout. Hopefully this_ real _currency will help bring the end of the Empire just a little quicker._ ” Matt snickered lightly, “Looks like she’s got a few cards up her sleeve too. Man, you made one serious impression on this lady.”

“Please don’t remind me…” Lance groaned. It left him with severely mixed feelings on the Madame. She was clearly ready help the Coalition. They had similar goals, but… It wasn’t enough to justify her own moral discrepancies. It almost felt like dirty money to Lance. But, how could they turned down money to help people in need? He reached to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was really way more than he wanted to consider.

Days had passed. Hunk, Pidge and Coran were able to get the castle back to running condition again. There was even a sixteen percent proficiency boost with the new equipment they got from the salvage Matt had provided them. The princess had managed to work her magic ambassador prowess and the Voltron’s Intergalactic Space Tour was back on track. It was not lost on Lance just how much the others made it a point to praise him for his accomplished victory and setting their course underway again. He was ultimately glad to have pulled through on the mission he wanted to prove his worth on, but it didn’t quite feel as satisfying as he had hoped at the beginning of it all. His preening was bogged down by other things on his mind. His pride was eclipsed by other feelings.

Keith seemed to be recovering steadily enough. He would spend a few hours in a healing pod to rejuvenate his weakened body and he was slowly starting to eat solid food again. After about a day and a half, he had been anxious to get in some combat training again ‘ _to loosen up his joints and muscles’_ he said. Lance couldn’t help but wonder if it was another way for him to keep his mind busy and escape. He was keen to keep a close eye on Keith through the days, watching his progress, but always from a distance. They were never in a room together alone. And he was discerning enough to pay attention to the conversations Keith had with the others, trying to pick up any hints or out-of-the-ordinary flags of his trauma. He wasn’t sure, maybe he simply wasn’t as observant as he had hoped to be, but Keith seemed as… well, as _Keith_ as he had always been. If Lance wasn’t there, himself, he never would have known what Keith had just been through.

The very notion formed something heavy in the pit of his stomach.

-

Travel days always seemed so much longer than when they were between systems. Nothing exciting to look at, nothing particularly interesting to do. They were boring and just dragged for _miles_. Lance was more than thrilled to finally shower and wind down for the night. With everything that had been clouding his mind lately, for some reason, Lance felt that tonight was going to be one of the better nights of rest he had lately. His hands pressed delicately, but firm on his face as he stepped out of his bathroom. A few minutes more and the moisturizer would be dry. Then the knock came.

“Yeah.”

The door opened.

“Keith…” Lance froze for a split second.

Keith found Lance standing in front of his bathroom, dressed in his Altean blue robe and a towel draped around his shoulders, “I guess it’s a little late… Did I come at a bad time?”

“Nah, I just finished.” Lance lifted the towel onto his head and began to gently dry his hair, “Come on in.”

Keith nodded and stepped a few feet into the door, letting it shut behind him. Lance picked up on the trepidation, which didn’t really bring any ease to his own apprehensions.

“How are you feeling?” It wasn’t a deep question. Honestly, Lance just didn’t want any silence to sit between them. He didn’t want any time to dwell on anything.

“Good.” Keith answered, rather quickly, “I’m… I’m really good. The training is still a little bit sluggish for me, but… y’know.” He finished with an idle shrug.

Lance chortled, “Of course it is. I’d be surprised if training was anything different with you.”

Keith puffed a quiet laugh but left Lance with nothing to respond to. He began to dread the way the moment seemed to stretch.

“I also finally debriefed Kolivan on what happened on the last mission today.” Keith crossed his arms tightly over his chest.

The hair on Lance’s arms bristled a bit. “Oh… Are you going back soon?”

“No. Not yet. I told Kolivan that I needed some time to recover. It took a minute for him to accept that - which is understandable given my normal penchant for getting back out there. But I think I’m due this time.”

Lance discreetly let go of the breath he had been holding. After all this time, it hadn’t even occurred to Lance to consider Keith would leave them and go back to the Blades of Marmora again. He could feel his stomach start to knot in the opposite direction from its normal turning.

“So… was there something on your mind?” He really hoped he didn’t have to jump to the issue so quickly. Lance was sure that Keith hadn’t wandered to his room just to tell him a few idle updates. He had a few guesses about what it was he came to talk about.

“Well…” Keith took a deep breath, “Things have sort of just ran like clockwork since we came back to the castle. And… I wanted to apologize if it seemed like I was avoiding you this entire time.”

Lance had to bite back a laugh. To think that Keith had worried Lance felt avoided when he was the one that-

“Because I have been.”

Lance was caught off guard and Keith could read it in the way his brows piqued. “Wait… what?”

“It’s just that-” Keith raked his fingers through his hair as he sought the words, “Really, I should have thanked you properly for… For back there. It’s just been kind of hard to find the right words and… a better time, I guess. I thought I couldn’t face you without knowing what it was I was going to say.”

Lance suddenly felt like they were, together, the walking definition of ridiculous. Both had been trying to avoid the other because they simply didn’t know what to say. They were walking circles around each other.

“I’m sorry, Lance.”

Lance was suddenly irritated and, bolstered by the reminder that Keith could suddenly disappear again without giving him a chance to say anything, he snapped.

“Will you quit _apologizing?!_ ” his arm cut through the air and tossing his towel in emphasis, “That’s like the third time you’ve said you were sorry. Look, I don’t know what the hell they put you through, but any idiot can guess it was _not_ good. When I first came into that room, Keith, I couldn’t even _touch you -_ they fucked you up so bad! And when I left -” The picture of Keith with tears streaming down his face gripped at Lance’s throat and he lost his voice.

“L-Lance…” Keith took a step toward Lance, awkwardly wondering if it was a good idea to console him.

“You’re a fighter, Keith. ‘Shoot first and ask questions later’, remember? There’s a fire in you that no one can touch…” Lance’s demeanor had shifted from angry to a somber tone. His eyes shifted from Keith to anywhere else, “So stop apologizing for going through Hell and stop saying sorry for trying to cope with it. That isn’t you, man…” Lance turned turned away from Keith and nervously rubbed at the back of his neck, “And… They may have crack you a little… But, even on that fucking stage, I never once thought you were _pathetic._ ”

Lance’s voice tapered out in the midst of that last sentence. But Keith picked up every syllable. His eyes widened with realization when the resonance of that final word hit him.

“You…” he stepped again, “You were awake.”

Lance’s shoulders hunched, his arms wrapped around himself sheepishly at the accusation and he turned from Keith further. Keith had come steeled for the worst. He had assumed Lance would brush everything under the carpet. Surely, the man would have enough decency to acknowledge Keith’s confrontation about it. Part of him was ready for this moment to be forgotten as quickly and readily as their last ‘bonding’. This, however, didn’t sound like what was happening. Lance had sunk into himself and hidden his face from Keith, but even across the room, he could see the reddening flush of his ears. This time intentionally stepped up, moving in close behind Lance.

“I lied.” Keith’s voice fell over Lance’s shoulder in a gentle confession. His hands moved to rest on Lance’s hips. He was encouraged by the fact that Lance didn’t shy away, “I was so afraid to see you.” His forehead rested gently against the back of Lance’s head. “I was terrified that, if we were left alone, I wouldn’t be able to hold back again.” A nervous breath passed his lips and Keith found himself drenched in Lance’s smell. He was freshly showered, just like then. He could drink in the cool wetness of Lance’s skin and he could smell the scent of the world just after a crisp spring rain. Lance turned his head curiously at the inhale next to his ear and Keith forced a swallow. “Ever since we got back… You’re all I can think about, Lance.”

Keith barely had the chance to finish speaking his name. Lance had spun around completely and held Keith at either side of his head. Their lips molded together with ease and Keith’s heartbeat in his throat. Lance kissed him solidly. Fully. Intentionally. As he moved away there was a thick, solid smack that broke slowly between them. Keith attempted to swallow his heart as Lance drew in a staggered breath.

“… Me too.” Lance’s head hung and his eyes never lifted, “But I don’t… I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want to be monsters like them, Keith.”

Every vision, every wet dream, every notion of Keith felt tainted. Every sordid thought he had seemed dirtied and infected with the kind of hunger that was sated with what was bought on Sagev. He hated that he thought of it so often. He hated that he wanted more of it. He hated himself for it so much it made his stomach turn.

Keith’s surprised had softened and his arms pulled Lance in close. “You’re nothing like them, Lance. You’re nowhere near them. You never were.”

Lance slipped his arms around Keith’s middle and tucked his face into the curve of his neck. He squeezed tightly and felt a rush of comfort when Keith returned the embrace. They stood in each other’s arms for several minutes, simply relishing in the physical contact. After a deep, slow breath Lance smirked dryly.

“How is it you still end up comforting _me_ and not the other way around?”

“Are you kidding, Lance?” Keith pulled back enough to look at him and Lance returned the stare with a curious one, “You’re the reason I’m here. You’re the reason I’m sane after all that. You always have my back. Every single time I’ve needed it - every time _anyone’s_ needed it.” He reached to brush Lance’s cheek with a thumb, “I can always count on you to be there when I need you most. To fight, to correct me, to cover for me, to make me laugh - mostly at your expense… That’s why I love you.”

Lance felt his eye burn with the stinging well of tears. His heart had swollen enough that his lungs couldn’t breath and it made his throat tight. He moved to kiss Keith again and he answered in kind. More began to pour in, one right after the other. Lance’s hand slid slowly up Keith’s chest and his fingers found themselves curling into the folds of black shirt he wore, pulling lightly at it as his lips parted further. Each kiss slowly eased higher up the sensual scale. More and more, tongues started to come into play, teasing and enticing, gingerly wanton.

Keith started to feel light-headed. He was concentrated so intently on swallowing every kiss he had to pull away to take a breath. He pressed his forehead against Lance’s and let his fingers slide up the curve of his neck and into his soft caramel hair. He was euphoric. He could hold Lance. He could kiss him, feel him, and taste him. He would never take any sensation for granted again. He breathed in as much of Lance as he could, even the tingling scent of mint on his breath as it crashed into Keith’s own and swirled between them. He wanted to pinch himself, he wanted to know if this was real or if he had actually died and this was heaven. But he didn’t want to let go. As a matter of fact, he reached with his other arm to pull Lance closer.

Lance, instead, shifted half a step back at the pull and unsnapped Keith’s belt. Everything at his waist dropped to the floor and before Keith could make any comment, Lance was lifting his shirt over his head. Once that joined his things on the floor, Keith watched as Lance caressed his chest. He could feel the light tracing of his fingers on his skin and he wanted to shiver at the touches.

“I had gloves on…” Lance’s voice was hushed and airy, “To hide my hands. I couldn’t feel you. I didn’t know how your skin felt. When we were in the hotel room everything was happening so fast I… I couldn’t…”

Keith reached for his hands and stilled them on his chest, “Lance-” The pressure Lance’s palms grew heavier against him and shifted away from Keith’s to roam again. Down his stomach, over his sides and waist, up and hover his shoulders and around his neck. Keith’s skin prickled at the touches and his heart crashed hard against his ribs. His lips parted in a quiet breath before they sought for Lance’s.

“Why did you leave…?” the question posed caused him to stop and Keith swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Why did you leave Voltron?” Lance repeated the question. His hands had laced behind Keith’s head and he was determined not to let him evade the question because it was the keystone to so much of his own personal obscurities, he was going to get an answer. “If you’ve felt that way for as long as you say you have - as much, as deeply, as you claim to… Why did you walk away from me?”

Keith drew a stuttered breath and it left him just as jagged as he tried to piece his scattered reasons into coherency. He wanted to sink away from the question, hide the truth and bury it somewhere on some distant asteroid and leave the past far from anyone’s reach. But Lance’s sharpshooting eyes left him so trapped it nearly rivaled anything he had just been through the past few days.

“Lots… of reasons.” Keith attempted an aloof shrug.

Lance wasn’t buying the cheap reply and his brows tightened as his eyes narrowed. Keith’s shoulders dropped and he eyes drifted to that asteroid he hoped to never see again.

“I wasn’t… good enough-”

“You didn’t stay long enough to-”

“Do you want the answer or not, Lance?” It was Keith’s turn to scowl. After everything Lance had done for him, he could at least give him the answer. But he would be damned if he was going to get a lecture before he could even finish. Lance clenched his jaw and kept silent. “I wasn’t the pilot everyone needed. I wasn’t the paladin Voltron deserved to have led - I’m still not. Shiro will always be the better choice, the _right_ choice.” He breathed, “I know what I am - who I am, and I had a chance to really resonate with what I’ve always struggled to identify. The Blades allowed that, so I took the opportunity… And I know this is what you’ve been waiting to hear me say, so - yes - I left because I wanted to run away.”

“From me.”

“From _me.”_

Lance’s brows curve up at Keith quizzically and bemused.

“I wanted to run from every shadow that hid in the corner of my room. I wanted to run from every whisper that would carry the secret of _why not_. I wanted to run from every reflection that reminded me that I wasn’t … _it._ ” The expression that twisted Keith’s face on that last word made it look painful to say. “When Shiro was gone, you were the one to constantly have to pick me up and dust me off after I would fuck everything up. You were the one that made me feel like I could take on the world because you came to me like I was a true, honest leader. You made me smile and feel like every problem in the universe was petty and trivial. You made my heart tighten and stutter when you smiled.” As he spoke Keith’s face softened, but they suddenly morphed back into a hard grimace. “But you never smiled _at me_ \- and why would you? What was _I?_ Angry. Petulant. Quick to snap. Single-minded. Selfish. - Also, male.” Lance turned his head sheepishly at that last one. “I didn’t want your corny pick-ups. I didn’t want your showy displays. I didn’t want your grand gestures. But beneath all of that … I always hoped you would at least _look at me.”_ Lance felt Keith’s fingers clutch into the fabric of his robe at his hips, “Every time I would sit in the Black Lion, the shadows would grow, the whispers would start to scream, and every time I would see myself reflected on that screen, all I could see was nothing but the shell of someone who would never be good enough for anyone. Especially those that I care the most for.”

Keith looked at Lance, clearly winded by laying the truth bare for him to see. There was a moment of stillness before Lance slipped his arm around Keith’s shoulders completely and drew him in tight. He squeezed tighter when he felt Keith’s hands finally slide up his back and wrap around him fully. He felt Keith’s airy breath against his ear and neck.

“I spent a lot of time gripped by those shadows with little more than those whispers to keep me company recently…” Keith squeezed and buried his nose into Lance’s soft scalp, “But holding you like this right now… It all feels like a bad dream just fading away.”

Backwards. It was all backwards. Lance wondered, had Keith stayed, would the be in a similar place even then? Would Lance have listened to that distant curiosity that began to prick at the back of his mind. _Believe me, Keith, I looked. I was constantly looking at you_. _Just not where you could see_. Always two steps back. Always from behind. And when he was the head of Voltron, Keith turned and looked at Lance. As an equal, as a partner. Suddenly Lance was no longer racing to catch up. Now, it was his _heart_ that started to race. If he reached out to the man that stood beside him and he was still there, would he have realized how he really felt? Would he have known that all this time he didn’t want to _be_ Keith, but be _with_ him without the trauma they faced? Would Lance have taken that step - God knows Keith never would have - to explore their possibility, nurture their compatibility, and, _eventually_ , make an awkward attempt that raw intimacy?

He wanted to believe that it would have happened that way.

The way things unfolded was akin to beating stones against one another and then finally cracking them open to find the beauty and shine that was hidden inside each of them. It was obviously a rather tactless method, unrefined and uncouth. But they were there, together, opening themselves to each other that, otherwise, never would happen. Lance found himself begrudgingly thankful - for the circumstance, not the situation, mind you. And he wanted more. They acted in desperation, necessity, duress. They responded to a situation that gave them only one logical choice. In it, Keith found peace and Lance found possibility. Now, he wanted proof. Proof that what they shared wasn’t simply reflex. Proof that they were more than just slaves to bestial desires that dampened cognitive evolution when allowed to run rampant and unchecked. He didn’t want to toy with Keith. He didn’t want to simply fuck or be fucked. Lance wanted to-

“Make love.” The words slipped out in a whispered sigh before Lance could stop himself.

“What?” Keith turned his head enough to take a sidelong glance.

Lance clenched his jaw and shut his eyes in a moment of mental scolding for being careless enough to let it slip. But then he huffed a breath to bolster his resolve. He stepped back and guided Keith to his bedside, urging him to take a seat. He did so but looked up at Lance with a subtle wonder. Lance reached for his face, each palm molding delicately against Keith’s face. His heart raced as Keith almost melted into the touch.

“I know…” he took a solid breath and let it out, “I know you’ve been through so much, Keith, but… Wo-would you ever want to?”

Lance had realized as he was saying it just how invasive he had been up to that point. He had half undressed him, for heaven’s sake, and had his hands all over him without even an inkling to what that could have done to Keith after everything he had been through. _Now_ , he had the mind to _ask_. Boy, was he bad at this. But he consoled himself with that fact that Keith never recoiled or pushed him away yet. Even if he weren’t ready, Lance could wait. Keith was someone he found he could fight for, so he was definitely someone worth waiting for.

Keith let out a breathy chuckle, “I suppose it would sense for me to not want to. But for all your selective memory, Lance, you would forget the other half of the main point.”

“What? Selective- Hey!” Lance grimaced. Keith’s smile was nothing but genuine and it made Lance blush.

“I’ve dreamed about you.” Keith reached for Lance’s arms, slipping his palms around the wrists near his face, “I’ve thought about you. I’ve yearned for you. Hell, I’ve _taken_ you… and for that I can’t even begin to apologize.” Keith sighed, broken over the thought. His eyes drifted away for a moment before seeking Lance one more time, “But here you are in front of me and asking me if I would ever want to again.” Keith let his hands slip up Lance’s forearms, the whispers of his gloves along the fabric of Lance’s robe were surprisingly loud. He let them skip from his elbows down to his hips, “Yes, Lance. I would take any moment with you. Always.”

There was a heartbeat. Then another. Then Lance leaned forward and pressed his lips solidly against Keith’s. He felt Keith’s fingers rake into his hair and he opened them for a second kiss. Keith craned his neck and pulled Lance in further. So Lance let his tongue slip inside. Keith met him in the middle before they finally broke apart enough for some air. They held each other in a wordless gaze that screamed a thousand things between them. After a moment of _forever_ that ended too soon, Lance took a half step to reach for a panel on his left at the head of his bed. He rooted for a small pot that fit nicely in the palm of his hand and he dropped it on the pillow before retaking his place before Keith - who had, meanwhile, peeled off his gloves and shoes. Their eyes locked again in an outpouring of wordless whispers and heart-swelling telepathic confessions.

Finally, Lance reached to untie his robe. It fell open with a whisper and, with a subtle shrug of his shoulders, drifted to to the floor at his feet. Keith could see a subtle flush beginning in Lance’s face as he looked him over. He reached for him, settling a hand on his hip as the other slipped up his stomach and chest. Lance licked his lips as he felt his skin tingle, goosebumps rising at the feel of Keith’s touch.

“You’re beautiful…” Keith stated, placing a careful kiss in the middle of Lance’s stomach.

Lance felt it and swallowed wetly before chuckling, “Hey, I’m pretty sure I called the title of _Smooth Talker_. Those kind of things are what _I’m_ supposed to say.”

“Mnh.” Keith smirked up at him, hands freely caressing up and down Lance’s sides, “I would rather you didn’t.”

“Is that right?” Lance grinned defiantly, his own fingers coming into that obnoxious mullet and relishing every strand, “Afraid you couldn’t handle all my sweet talk? Too embarrassing for you?”

“Oh please.” Keith scoffed, “No. But I’ve found out, recently, that your mouth is just as good for things _other_ than talking.”

Lance paused and, suddenly, his cheeks were completely flushed with blood. “Oooh. Oh-ho-ho-ho. Okay. Okay. Keep that up, pal, and we’ll see what other kinds of things it’s good at.” Somehow, that didn’t come out as threatening as Lance had hoped. It sounded menacing in his head.

Keith looked up at him with darkly hooded eyes and a deviant grin. “I’m all yours, Lance.”

If it was at all possible, Lance reddened even further and grimaced. “Fuck you for being better at _this_ too.”

“Well, buddy, that’s the idea. But here I am sitting here still _waiting._ ”

That was the killing blow. “Oh, you little _shit._ ” Lance’s arms draped around Keith’s shoulders and he slumped over him.

Keith laughed in earnest and Lance couldn’t stop the smile that cut across his face. There was a delicate moment of silence before Lance carefully leaned in and pressed his lips against Keith’s. As much as he had already felt how Keith’s own set folded perfectly within his own, it was the first time he savored the honest taste of him. Keith’s answer was just as introspective, focused so thoroughly on the intention to simply kiss Lance. Something so light and cautious started such a fire within them both. With a subtle urge, Keith shifted to lay on the bed proper and Lance moved over him, lips on lips all the while. Several minutes more and Lance had helped to remove the rest of Keith’s garments. Each bared full to the other, the only underlying intentions of their intimacy now being what the future could hold for them together. Skin burned against skin. Each nerve alight to the touch and caress of the other; steady, deliberate, intentional, emotionally supplied. The mechanics grew hazy and both were charged by sensation, responded to reaction, and guided by a necessity that was both familiar and foreign all at once.

Keith’s calls of Lance’s name to supplicate for things he didn’t know how to ask for drove shivers throughout Lance nonstop. He remembered the clenched jaws and bit lips back on Sagev in order to keep from calling to Keith, speaking _his_ name like a prayer lest everything fall pieces. Now, names were like a breath, a touch, a look of complete surrender. Endless. Precious. Sincere. And he could touch him now. He could _feel_ the honest heat of Keith against a naked palm. He could feel the heartbeat against his bare fingers and it only caused him to want more. Lance wasn’t sure in what way it was decided that Keith would be on the receiving end, but complaining was the furthest thing from his mind. Mostly, it was filled to the brim with how different it was from the first time. _Everything_ was burning. Keith was practically fluid in comparison to his tense demeanor before. Even Lance’s intentions had shifted. There was less calculating, less weighing of consequence, more connecting, more intimacy. There was no urgency left, no high-wire act of _Life and Death_ teetering over him - over them both - to distract from the molten desire that was building between them.

Keith spent much of the time with his eyes open. Always on Lance, always watching. He could tell by the flush on his cheeks and the occasional escaping look Lance was flustered by so much attention - even as Lance had once thought he wanted it. In truth he simply wished Keith to know he was safe. Maybe some day. Some day Keith would be able to let go and close his eyes and _know_ always it was Lance. As it had been during the times it mattered most of all, though that barely undermined every other. But not knowing that until after was difficult to deal with. He accepted the position - he was no idiot, he knew Lance hadn’t finished - of his own accord. The other half of it was to test his own limits. So long as Lance was who he saw, who he felt, who he tasted, he was open to _euphoric_. Each time _Lance_ would drift liltingly on his breath, Lance answered. Like a drop of water. Honest. Real. Grounding.

.

.

.

.

.

 _Keith_.

Lance laid sweat-drenched and spent on his back. Keith had molded to his side in a similar fashion. Their chests heaving to catch their breaths and calm their hearts, clutching one another as though they feared falling into oblivion with nothing but the lingering taste of the other’s kiss on his lips. Keith took that final deep sigh, falling back into a normal rhythm, and reached to bury his fingers into Lance’s hair as he mouthed and kissed his ear on the opposite side. Lance craned his neck to oblige it, reaching to stroke the exploring arm with a pleasant hum.

He felt a playful nip at his lobe.

Lance hissed softly and turned his head to face Keith, “Ooh, kinky. Just might have to see what kind of talents _your_ mouth has.”

Keith gave a fatigued chortle and kissed him. After a minute of playful nosing, Lance stared at Keith with a rare look of sincerity. If he was honest, Keith found it a bit worrisome.

“Hey…” Lance shifted to lay on his side, propping his head up with a hand, “Are you okay? I mean _really_ okay?”

Keith took a long moment to answer, looking over Lance’s facial features as he deliberated with himself. Finally he laid onto his back and with, a lightly sardonic smirk, answered.

“No, honestly. I’m not.” He laughed, “I can’t stand the dark much anymore - which is laughable, if you consider _me_. But I don’t like complete black. I leave the low louver lights on in my room now. That way, when I open my eyes, I see _something.”_ His eyes stared up at the ceiling of Lance’s bed, though looked at nothing in particular. “I woke up in a cold sweat last night after dreaming about the prison cell. It just got too quiet in my room, I think. And I tense up every time someone touches me.”

Lance’s face melted into regret, sorrow, helplessness, and concern, all squeezed into a single pout. “… Keith..”

“Yeah… It sucks.” Keith sighed and looked back over to Lance. An honest, hopeful smile growing on his lips, “But I’ll get there… Having you here helps. A lot.”

Keith reached to stroke Lance’s cheek with the back of his index finger lightly, sad to bring the mood down, but wholly pleased that he was able to be honest. Lance reached to take that hand in his and held it against his cheek.

“It took way too long for me to put the picture together, Keith. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for so much that I can’t take back.” Lance squeezed his hand, “But I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’ll keep every light on, soothe every nightmare, and keep my hand where you can find it.”

Keith couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of him falling for Lance’s cheesy lines - and fall _hard_. But the smile in his eyes faded quick.

_I love you_.

Keith sat straight up and looked at Lance with shock and wariness. Lance sat up beside him, the ardent truth in his eyes never wavered. He offered Keith his hand. He looked at it and then to Lance. The trepidation that cause his to tremble as he slipped it into Lance’s palm was plain to see. Lance gave it a tight squeeze and reached with his other to brush away the hot tears that slipped down Keith’s face. “I love you, Keith.” Again, for good measure. “I’ve thought about it at lot. Back on Sagev 547 and especially when we came back to the castle. Every time I thought I would lose you, it always felt like the worst thing that could happen to me. I was without you once and it hurt. If I lost you again - to _that_ \- knowing that you were unsafe, hurting, helpless… It destroyed me to even consider it. I want to be there to save you from the edge, Keith. I never want you to feel the kind of fear and loneliness you knew then. I want to make sure you always feel safe, that someone always has your back. That _I_ always have your back.”

Keith’s wide, wet eyes searched every corner of Lance’s face. Looking for some flicker of deceit, a sign of his own mental displacement. So often had he wished for similar words. So often had he jolted from a dream so similar. But he found nothing but the solid grasp of his hand and the familiar glimmer of blue eyes he always wanted to look so deeply into “I… I love you too, Lance.”

“I know.” Lance smirked before reaching to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Mother of Pearl, this was not how I expected it to go! So much for a quickie, eh? 
> 
> Anyone catch them Easter eggs?? Haha. I only say that because I'm self-indulgent and sprinkled a few in. (No, they aren't necessarily VLD related. Mwaha!) If you caught them, or you didn't catch them, I would **_love_** to hear if you enjoyed the read! (Or not.)  
> Any questions? Comments? Concerns? Critiques?! Lay ‘em on me! *beats catchers mitt and takes stance* I’m ready!
> 
> _— > We now return you to our [regularly scheduled programming](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15790089/chapters/36742989)._


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